Martha
by Shadowcat20x
Summary: Clark is six years old and learning to live in a world where he doesn’t fit in. Good thing he’s got Lana and loving parents by his side. Seen through the eyes of Martha. Clana
1. Chapter 1

_Why am I uploading all these old fics? Oh well. Enjoy!_

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I lay in his arms as sunlight filters in through the windows. I listen to his constant sturdy breathing that's always brought me peace, and comfort. Outside I can hear the animals, ready for the new day. The cows are already mooing, anxious to be milked. I turn my head to the clock beside our bed. 5:45. He's late. Oh, well, let him sleep in. The cows can wait.

But he's already stirring. He rolls to his side, releasing me as he does. Slowly he sits up next to me. I turn over to face him and prop myself up on my elbow. He's still sleepy, and I smile. Eventually his eyes open and contact with mine. Goodness, his eyes are beautiful.

"Hey there." He says in a gruff, unused voice.  
"Hi." I reply.

He leans down to kiss me. Short and sweet. Then he gets up and stretches. I lay back down and watch while he dresses. He's incredibly fit, one would have to be, on a farm like this. He runs almost all of it himself. Of course, I help where I can, but he does most of the labor intensive jobs.

Although, he did tell me he let Clark chop some firewood the other day. I'll have to talk to him about that one. Clark's only six for goodness sakes. We should hire more hands. But we just can't. Not with Clark around. He doesn't have full control of his abilities just yet. And especially not with that thing in the cellar.

Jonathan finishes getting dressed and kisses me goodbye. I'll see him in an hour or so for breakfast, but I still don't like being separated from him for any amount of time. I love him so much.

I lay there listening to the quiet of the house that Jonathan's grandfather built. It's a beautiful house, yellow, my favorite color. Everything's so warm and inviting. I get up, shower and get dressed. No plaid for me. Occasionally I'll wear one of Jonathan's shirts, but plaid's definitely not for me. Just because I'm a farmer's wife, doesn't mean I have to look like it.

I go to Clark's room and stand in his doorway. His room is a mess. And it looks like he was playing with his ninja turtle action figures last night, after I had already tucked him in. They're spread all over his floor. Sometimes I swear that child can see in the dark. Then again, that wouldn't surprise me.

He lies there, softly snoring. In his blue power ranger pajamas, under a dull red cotton sheet. One of his feet dangles off the edge of the bed. I sigh, and smile as I lean against the door frame. How can this precious little angel not be human? I've thought the same thing for the past three years, ever since he found us that fateful day.

"Clark. Clark. It's time to get up sweetie." He moans as a sign he's heard me. I chuckle to myself and head down-stairs.

I love to cook. Which is strange. No one on my side of the family likes to cook. I hated it when I first married Jonathan. But over the years, I guess its grown on me. Sort of an outlet to get away from the world. Just like farmwork. Pancakes with fresh berries and cream, scrambled eggs, and sizzling bacon. Thank goodness I wasn't a vegetarian when I met Jonathan, The Kent men sure did love their meat.

I hear strange sounds upstairs, telling me my son is up and ready for the day. And probably using his super-speed, even though I've told him countless times not to run indoors, until he's got a better handle on it. Jonathan and I actually had to cover over a wall with a Clark sized hole in the middle of it from two years ago.

I hear a crash and my eyebrows raise up, while I continue to mix my pancake batter. I wonder what's broken now. It's not that Clark's clumsy, it's just that he's a little too fast and a little too strong for his own good.

That's why Jonathan and I were so worried to send him to public school. We were extremely worried. Something would happen, where he'd accidently used his powers, and someone more qualified to handle him would take him away. Jonathan and I talked long and hard about it for a long time. We talk long and hard about all things concerning Clark all the time. There are so many decisions we have to make with various consequences in mind that other parents barely consider.

I worry about him. That's for sure. And I pray to God, he'll be careful and not reveal anything. He doesn't understand why sometimes. Why he can't show Pete, or Greg, or even Lana about his natural born powers. Why it's incredibly dangerous. Why his friends aren't allowed over very often except for Lana, or why he can never go over to play at their homes.

Him being at school is stressful enough for Jonathan and I. We can only take one step at a time. How do you explain to a six year old the answer to all these questions without letting him know he's not human? No, Jonathan and I haven't talked to him about that aspect of his origins, I wonder if he remembers anything about where he comes from. We don't know if we ever will tell him. He's not old enough to shoulder that kind of a burden of knowledge right now. I don't know if he ever will be. Would anyone be able to? At what age do you tell someone something that life changing?


	2. Chapter 2

I hear slow footsteps coming down the stairs. I smile to myself. I know he'll admit that he broke something. He's a good kid. An extremely good kid. More well behaved that any other child I know.

It's almost as if he doesn't want us to have any reason to send him away, like his real parents did, whoever that were.

Of course, his mind does wander and he slips into his own world where he forgets what his Mom tells him, sometimes, but then again, what child doesn't?

"Mommy?"  
"Good Morning, sweetheart. Yes?"

I turn around and a small gasp escapes my mouth before I can stop it. I bite my lip.

There in his hands lays the shattered pieces of a little porcelain figure my father had given me from a business trip in Japan. The last souvenir I ever received from him. Soon after that, I married Jonathan, and all little trinkets stopped coming my way.

Clark's little face was filled with remorse, he looked like he was about to cry, he knew how important it was to me. Another stran- I mean different thing about Clark is that he never cries. I have never seen one tear slip down that boy's face.

"Oh, sweetheart. It'll be alright. When Daddy comes back we'll see if he can fix it. Don't worry."

I kneel down beside him and wipe a tear from his cheek. I take the broken pieces from him and place them on the table. One of the pieces cuts me and I hiss in pain. Quickly I rinse my fingers under water and reach into a drawer for a band-aid

"Mommy? Did you cut yourself? Are you bleeding? Will you be alright?"  
"Yes to all your questions Clark."

Clark always becomes intensely interested when someone gets hurt. I marvel at how he never gets injured, and so far, his skin is unbreakable. I've never seen him bleed. Bruises, yes. But they disappear within a few hours. He hardly even gets those any more. In fact he hasn't had any in about a year. And that only happened because he was fooling around in the tractor's engine.

And he never gets sick. Ever. My own little miracle.

"Clark, what happened? How did my doll break?" His face falls as he remembers what happened.

"I...I was trying to reach for something under your cabinet but I couldn't reach it, so I lifted your it to get...the thing. And that's when it fell off the top."

"You lifted my 200 pound oak cabinet with one hand while reaching for something with the other?"

He swallowed and nodded. Completely oblivious to the strangeness he just admitted to. I sighed.

"Well, please try to be more careful in the future, sweetheart. And no lifting up furniture without permission, or something else might break. So, what was it you were reaching for?"  
"Umm, well, it was..um.."

Just then the door swings open and in walks Jonathan.

"Hey Sport! You're up already - great! I need your help with the tractor. Hey beautiful."

We kiss as I serve everyone some food. I say the prayer for the meal and we begin to eat.

"What exactly do you think Clark is going to do to help you with the tractor?"

Jonathan looks at me sheepishly. "Well, my jack's broken. And..."  
"And?"  
"Well, I need Clark to lift it up and put it onto some cylinder blocks."  
"You want our son to lift the utility tractor?"  
Quietly he adds, "Actually it's the row crop one."  
"Jonathan! No! You're just going to have to buy a new jack."  
"Martha, I know he can do it."  
"No, he's only six years old, Jonathan, he's never lifted something that heavy before, it could be dangerous."  
"He's not your average six year old. Just let him try. Please."

My eyes shift to Clark, who's watching our argument intently. My mind imagines him lifting my cabinet with one hand easily. I sigh.

"Oh, alright. But only if he wants to."  
Jonathan turns grinning to Clark. "How about it Clark? Wanna help Daddy with the tractor?"  
"Yeah!"  
"You don't have to make it sound so exciting." I shake my head as he laughs and finishes eating.  
"Thanks for all the good food, Mom." Jonathan says as he stands up and kisses me on the forehead.  
"When you're done, come out to the barn, son."

I turn to Clark who super speeds eating his meal.  
"Thanks for all the good food, Mom!" He says excitedly. It's not every day we ask Clark to use his powers.

"Clark, honey, wait. What was it you were reaching for?"  
"Oh, um, this."

He takes something out of his pocket. It's a little wooden fairy. Fairly well crafted by a six year old.

"Clark, did you make this?"  
"Yeah, with my pocketknife."  
"It's beautiful. But I still wish Daddy never gave you that knife."  
"It's not dangerous. It can't cut me."  
"I know. This is beautiful craftsmanship Clark."  
"It's..it's for Lana."

I smile.

"I'm sure she'll love it Clark."

He sticks it back in his pocket, flashes a grin at me and super speeds out the door, leaving a trail of blown napkins in his wake. I've got to warn him about that. Anyone could be walking up the driveway and see him. Oh, Clark there are so many warnings and cautions in your life. Too many for a child his age.

I quickly clean up and head towards the barn, to see what mischief my boys are up to.


	3. Chapter 3

As I enter my mouth drops open. There's Clark straining to put the tractor on to the blocks.

Amazing. And scary. His strength isn't what scares me, it's what his strength could result in. He could accidently hurt someone, or destroy some property, or just be discovered as abnormal and be taken from me.

Jonathan tells me I'm the strongest person he knows. He must not know very many people then. I shake and I fear every day, every second, that someone will take my son. I'm not a brave person. Surely I'm not the only mother who feels this, but I'm the only mother with a son like this.

Clark sets the tractor down and his shoulders droop in an exhale from his hard work. Jonathan pats his back.

"Good job, Clark. I'm so proud." He scruffs up my little boy's already messy hair. "Alright son, now go get ready for school."  
"Yes dad!"

Clark super speeds back towards the house. I continue to stand there. I love seeing Clark and Jonathan together. It actually took Jonathan a long time to finally take the responsibility of being Clark's father, and claiming Clark as his son. But something else is on my mind.

"Do you think it confuses him?"  
"What?"  
"How we encourage him to use his abilities at home, but forbid him to use them any where else."

Jonathan doesn't answer right away. I can hear him tinkering away underneath the tractor.

"It'll take time, but he'll learn why eventually."  
"What if he needs to know why now, Jonathan?"

More silent tinkering.

I answer my own question. "Then I'll let him know, that his strength and his speed are special. He can use them at home because we're used to his gifts. But that others might not understand if he decided to share his powers with them. They might...they might..."

"Take him away from us. That always seems to set him straight."

"I don't want to tell him that anymore. It feels like we're threatening him."

"We're just telling the truth Martha. We're just being honest. He deserves to know the consequences."

"Still, I don't like it. Sometimes parents have to say no, even if we'd rather say yes. Although, in Clark's case, it seems like we say no more often than not. I mean he's never allowed to go to friend's houses, or play often with other kids, or be himself around other people."

I sigh in frustration and look at my watch. 7:30. I better make sure Clark's getting ready for school and not continuing the saga of the purple ninja turtle.

Clark and I walk about half a mile, up to our next door neighbor's driveway to pick up Lana. We do it every morning and the three of us wait at the bus stop.

Her aunt Nell always seems so busy. But I'm happy to do it. I adore Lana. If I didn't know Clark, I'd swear she was the alien child, she's too cute and too polite. Clark and Lana are best friends. It's the cutest friendship I've ever seen.

I have this secret fantasy that they'll always be best friends, fall in love, get married, and give me many, many grandchildren. That would be, that would be perfect. Perfect. But it's just a fantasy, life never comes that easily packaged.

Clark runs up her steps excitedly as always and knocks on the door. Almost immediately, Lana opens it.

"Hey Kimberly!" He says.  
"What's going on Tommy?" She giggles. I chuckle at their early morning traditions, pretending to be the pink and green power rangers.

"Nell! Clark and his Mom are here!"

I hear a voice respond.  
"Okay, have a good day at school, sweetheart!"

Nell never comes to the door to wish Lana goodbye - or to even check if it is really us who Lana's leaving with. Maybe she gives her a hug goodbye each morning before we come, and watches us from a window. Maybe not. Is it any of my business? I don't know.

All I do know is that Lana spends more time at our farm than she does at her own house. I used to babysit her a lot when the Langs were still alive.

Nell asked me to help her out and babysit Lana soon after the meteor shower, when she was still recuperating from the fact that she was now the sole guardian of a three year old girl.

I almost said no, because we had Clark, but Lana and Nell both really needed someone too, so reluctantly I agreed.

I had kept them in separate rooms for a few months, because, well, I hate to admit it, but I was afraid Clark would accidently hurt Lana with his strength. Now I know that was wrong, but for some reason I still won't let Clark play with other children.

What is this gate I keep fencing him in? It surely can't be helping him learn to be around other children. Lana had to be the one to break through the confines constantly surrounding him.

It happened one day, when I heard giggling coming from our living room where Clark always stayed. I was surprised to find Lana there, playing with Clark and laughing. I almost ran up to them, but then noticed the way Clark was looking at her. They had been introduced, but Clark had never before played with another child.

He wasn't laughing, but I could see the smile in his eyes. He watched Lana with a slow powerful gaze that seemed to observe everything she did. He mimicked her often, and that would make her laugh. It sounded so good. I hadn't heard Lana laugh like that in a long time.

And so they were never separated again. It's funny how one little change could make that big of an affect on them. Lana began to smile more often, and laugh, which warmed my heart. While Clark began talking. He had said a few words here and there, but never really complete sentences. And now it was "Lana this, and Lana that." And it thrilled me.

My heart still breaks for that girl, since her parents perished. Sweet, dear, Lana. No one should be alone so young. In that sense she and Clark are very similar. I wonder if they notice the similarities. I'm sure they do.


	4. Chapter 4

I walk about 15 steps behind them as we reach the bus stop, watching them play and laugh and talk. Did I mention I want them married?

"And then I morph! Dragonzord! Huh-hi-ya-huh!"

"Me too! Me too! Pteradactyl Dinozord! Hi-ya! Hi-ya!"

They throw their arms out in karate mimicked moves. Clark suddenly runs ahead and it looks to me like he's about to super speed. I almost yell out his name. But he stops and turns to face Lana and puts his hands on his hips. Lana begins to pretend she's a robot.

"Ha ha ha! You'll never defeat me power rangers!"

"Oh yes we will!"

They put down their back packs and start mock fighting. I watch almost nervously. Maybe I shouldn't let Clark watch such violent shows. Violent? This is power rangers for goodness sakes Martha. Everything's fine.

I look down the road for the bus when I hear Lana cry out in pain.

I rush over to where Lana's fallen in the dirt. Tears are streaming down her face as I check her over. I sigh in relief as I realize the tears are more from embarrassment than injury.

"Oh, it's alright sweetheart. You're all right. Now come one, upsadaisy." I pull her on up and dust the dirt off her lavender overalls. She wipes the tears from her face.

"There. See, you're all better now. What happened?"

"It was an accident, Mrs. Kent. Clark didn't mean to push me down."

Inside my mouth my teeth grit. I slowly turn to Clark, His face is white and he looks more shaken up than Lana.

"Clark, what happened?"

"I-" He squeaks. "I-I didn't mean - I-" He looks like he's on the verge of tears. I kneel down by him.

"Alright, alright, shh. It's alright. She's fine. Everything's okay." He hugs me and buries his face in my dress. I can feel him shaking. I just hold him for a little while longer. When he finally stops trembling I say,

"Hey. Everything's okay. You're alright, right Lana?"

"Yes, Mrs. Kent."

"I know it was an accident, Clark. I know. But everything's okay." He looks up into my eyes. I whisper,

"You'll just have to be a lot more careful next time, won't you?"

He nods and slowly removes his death grip from around me. I pat him on the head as the bus finally pulls up. Lana picks up their backpacks.

"Come on, Clark." She hands him his bag as she puts her arm around his shoulder and they walk toward the bus. I watch as they get on and sit in the back seat. They wave to me and shout as the bus drives away.

"Bye Mrs. Kent!"  
"Bye Mom!"

Clark looks cheerful once again. I envy children. They so easily switch moods. I wave back furiously until the bus is no longer in sight. But then I tense up. I always do when Clark leaves my care.

I've gotten better since last year. I really have. Ha, you should have seen me and Jonathan during Kindergarten. I suppose as time goes on I'll realize there's nothing to worry about and ease up completely.

Working in the garden is a passion of mine. I think I must have developed a green thumb when I married Jonathan, because before, I had no interest in nature.

It's like I became an entirely different person. Entering this family changed me in more ways than I can name. At least that's what my parents thought. I don't talk to them as much as I used to.

I lived in Metropolis, I was a city girl. And now I'm a farm girl. It's strange how what I valued in life changed over night. Drastically more so when Clark showed up. Clothes, money, appearance. It was so important a life ago. Family is all that counts now. Happiness. And protecting one another.

I found it so very strange to visit my mother and not know who she was. And she not know who I was. We lost touch. I lost touch with my mother. Does that happen to normal people? Who just loses touch with their mother? I wonder if she ever had a green thumb.

I'm digging up some weeds when I hear the phone ring in the kitchen. Instantly, and instinctively, chills rush across my goose bump laden skin. I don't know why the phone does that to me.

Ever since Clark started school, my fear has been that the next call I get will be about him. And that it won't be good news. I rush back inside but the machine's already answered it. Oh, well, it's probably not about Clark anyway. I sit and fan myself as I listen to the caller.

"Mr. And Mrs. Kent, this is Principle O'Neil from Smallville Elementary. Your son Clark is perfectly fine, but there's been an incident involving him and we need you to come in immediately."

My head jerks up, my face drawn tight with fear. Suddenly I feel ill. Clark? I must have been hearing things. I grab the phone and speed dial the school even faster than Clark could have.

"Thank you for calling Small-"

"This is Martha Kent. Clark Kent's mother. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Mrs. Kent, hello. Your son is fine, he's not hurt in any way. But we do believe he might have been involved in another student's injury. The principle would like you to come down here, so you can find out the details."

"Alright, I'm on my way."

I can't think. I can't imagine. Nothing rushes through my mind. My only focus is Clark. And the fact that I have to get to him. I grab my keys and head for the truck when I remember, right, I have a husband. I run towards the barn instead. Jonathan's inside using the noisiest piece of machinery he could right now.

"Jonathan! Jonathan! Jonathan!" I yell. I wave my arms so he'll notice me. He turns it off.

"Clark." I realize is all I can say, in a strange squeaky voice I don't recognize. What could have happened to Clark? Will they take him from me? Jonathan stares at me and then throws off his goggles.

"Come on!" He yells.

We both run for the truck as fast as humanly possible and jump in. I start the engine and we bolt down the road.

"The principle called, and Clark's fine, but some other student got hurt." I was able to control myself until that moment and my voice became fast and annoying. And tears started sliding down my cheeks.

"What if he used his strength, Jonathan? What if the other boy's seriously hurt? What if they've called in experts already? What if they take him from us?"

"That's a lot of what if's Martha. We don't know what's happened, so let's not get ahead of ourselves. If it is something serious, the best thing we can do is stay calm, keep our nerve." Jonathan sounds peaceful compared to me. But then his rational took an unexpected turn.

"But they won't take our son. Over my dead body will they take him. I'd rather runaway with him and you, before he's dragged off to some lab."

"So much for staying calm." I almost laugh. He does, but it's a strangled, nervous one.

Suddenly in my rear view mirror I see blue and red lights. Perfect timing. Jonathan swears as I pull over. I'm still crying and I feel like my hands are stuck to the steering wheel. Jonathan holds my arm.

"Martha."  
I stare into his eyes and nervously tremble. I've never in all my life been this hysteric, not even during the meteor shower. I let him pull my arms away. Ethan's footsteps crunch on the gravel as he comes to my window.

"Martha, do you know why I pulled you over? Martha? Good heavens! What's happened?"

I try to respond but somehow can't. I turn to Jonathan. His face is as white as Clark's was this morning. But somehow he keeps his voice smooth and unfaltering.

"There was an accident down at the elementary school, and they called us to come on down."

"That was Clark?! I heard about it on my radio. Oh, Jonathan, Martha, I'm sorry. But shouldn't you two be headed to the hospital?"

Jonathan tensely shakes his head.

"Clark's not hurt. But he might have been involved somehow."

A terrible silence ensues.

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm sorry. Don't worry about the speeding, but I think you two should switch places."

I nod and Jonathan gets out. I slide over to his seat as he comes around. We drive off towards the school.

I turn my head around as I see Ethan standing there just watching us. At least I've stopped crying now. But I have a headache. I hold my head.

"Hospital." I mumble to myself.

"Hospital." Jonathan just repeats me.


	5. Chapter 5

Although still shaky, my nerves calm down enough to a level of sanity as we approach the school. But my imagination goes into overdrive as 20 different scenarios play out in my head.

But none of them involve Clark hurting the other boy, I just can't believe that he'd do that. It had to have been an accident.

Fake scientists pop into my mind with beady eyes and foreign accents.

"Your boy is very very special Mrs. Kent!" or "Did you know your son isn't human? The world must know!" or "Imagine the money we'd make off earth's first alien!" I shudder.

We quietly go inside to the main office. Jonathan tells the secretary,

"We're the Kents. You called us about our son, Clark?"

Jonathan's panting. I'm not sure how long he's been holding his breath.

"Of course, of course, come this way."

She leads us down the carpeted back hallway to the principle's office and knocks on the door.

"Betty, the Kents are here."

The door opens and a woman younger that I am is standing there.

"Thanks Jane. Mr. And Mrs. Kent, please come in. I'm Bethany O'Neil, principle."

She smiles and shakes our hands. She doesn't seems upset at all, could I be hyperventilating about nothing? I'm completely confused by her actions and suddenly my nerves feel incredibly loose, as though someone had been pulling them and pulling them to the point where they were about to snap, but then all of a sudden let go.

She opens the door all the way and there's Clark, sitting, scared and alone, looking up at us.

"Oh, Clark!" I rush in and hug him tight. I never want to let him go.

He whispers weakly in my ear, "Mommy, I'm so sorry."  
I grasp him even tighter. Good thing this child is unbreakable.

"Martha."

Jonathan touches my shoulder, I slowly let Clark go, and sit down in a chair next to him, still holding tight to his hand. Betty looks at us with kindness as she speaks.

"Mr. And Mrs. Kent, I suppose, let me start with what I understand to have happened.

Clark's first grade class had bookbuddies today with the fourth graders. Kevin Johnson was the 4th grader assigned to Pete Ross, whom I believe is a friend of Clark's. Now, Kevin's visited me before, he has a...(she pauses)..slight bully problem.

Today he was being especially crude to several students in Clark's class. He even started pushing little Pete around and uttering profanities. Lana Lang, another child in Clark's class, went over with Clark to defend Peter.

Lana told Kevin to stop being so mean, yet he continued to harrass Pete. She eventually told him she was going to tell the teacher. That was when he pushed her."

Ms. Small stopped for a second, wetting her lips. She took a deep breath and continued,

"That's when the confusion started. 

Immedaitely after pushing Lana, Kevin was thrown thorugh the classroom door. Notice I said door, not doorway, and through it, not against it. The teachers didn't see how it happened. None of the other children will tell me what they saw.

Except for Kevin. He claims Clark pushed him. I certainly don't know how that could possibly be. I suppose you'll have to see the door to understand."

She got up and led us all to Clark's classroom, which at that moment was empty. I held Clark's hand tightly, and he held me tighter as we followed her. I gasped at the sight of the door. Or rather, what was left of it.

It was literally smashed. A large misshapen hole was in the middle of it. Splinters, hinges, and chunks of the door lay all around. I cringed at the sight of a little blood on the wall facing the classroom.

"Kevin suffered several broken bones, and a serious concussion. He was still conscious before the ambulances arrived, and that's when he told me Clark did this to him. I think after seeing this, you don't need to know that Kevin is also more than twice Clark's size."

She picked up a large piece of wood and fumbled with it in her hands. And then she looked at us.

"I was expecting to be hit with a barrage of protests from you both. I was expecting a denial out of Clark. I guess I was expecting a lot of things."

She sighs and plays with the wood a little more.

"But you're not protesting. And I didn't get a denial. Clark actually admitted to pushing Kevin through the door. Is there something you want to tell me? Anything at all?"

We stand silent. I have never had to have an excuse for Clark's abilities, and I didn't know where to begin. This woman suspects there's something highly unusual about Clark. But somehow, she's giving us a chance to escape. I clear my throat.

"No. Only, Clark couldn't possibly do that. I don't even see how it's possible."

Jonathan follows my lead, "Clark's a good kid, he wouldn't push, let alone - this - to another child." He gestures toward the hallway debris.

Betty looks at us and nods. "Of course. I knew as much. Still it's strange, don't you think? How a freak wind blew only Kevin through the door. Kansas is notorious for its wind. Well, seeing as everything's been cleared up, why don't you take Clark home early today? I'm sure he's been shaken up by what's happened."

I nod and Jonathan sticks out his hand and shakes hers.

"Thank you."

"What for? Now off with you. I have to somehow explain all this to Kevin's parents." She turns to Clark and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, and clark, be careful."

We turn away and walk out as Clark clings onto my arm, while I grasp Jonathan's hand with the other.

And that was how we learned to lie.


	6. Chapter 6

Clark didn't want to do anything. He didn't want to watch cartoons. He didn't want his usual after school snack. He didn't want to talk about it. Instead, he hid underneath the couch. We tried to coax him out, but it didn't work. I whispered to Jonathan, "Let's just give him some time."

We continued with our normal tasks and work we have when Clark's at school. I put on some music and started making an apple pie. Jonathan went back out to work.

I never heard a sound from under the couch. Not a peep, or a sob. Nothing. I finished my pie and put it in the oven. And then I sat on the couch. I began to talk out loud.

"I wonder what's on tv... I wonder if anyone will like my pie...I wonder how Clark's feeling right now." I let the question hang. I heard movement underneath the couch.

"I know how I would feel. Sad, embarredssed. Scared. Does Clark feel that way too?" I hear more shuffling underneath. I lay down on my stomach and lean my head over the edge.

"If I was feeling that way I'd want someone to talk to, so I could feel better."

A small head of downy soft black locks peeks out, right under mine. I smile.

"Hi, " I say

"Hi."

"Do you wanna tell me what happenend?"  
He shakes his head.

"Do you want to tell me why you did it?"

He purses his lips together. "He made me angry. More angry than I've ever been. He said so many mean things to Pete and Lana."

"Did you think about what would happen when you pushed him?"

He hesitates. "No."

"But you knew he would get hurt, and you know better than that, don't you?"

"Yes."

"What should you have done?"

"Told the teacher."

"Good job, that's right. What was the biggest mistake you made today?"

"Um, showing my strength?"

I shake my head. "No, hurting Kevin. You should never hurt anyone. Not if they don't deserve that. He was hurt very badly, you know that right?"

Soberly, he nods his head.

"What have you learned today?"

"Never hurt anyone, and don't show my powers."

"Good boy. I'm proud of you Clark. Of course, Daddy and I are disappointed in what you did to Kevin, and you will be punished. But I'm proud that you learned something. You'll never do it again, right?"

"Never!"

"That's my boy. You know what I think would be nice? If we made get well cards for Kevin. How about it?"

"Okay!" He says with a grin as he wriggles out from under the couch. I get some construction paper and markers and we work on some cards.

"Mmm. I smell your pie, Mommy. It smells so good. Apple's my favorite."

"Why thank you, Clark. I do believe it's time to take it out."

While I set the pie on the window still, I look at the clock. 3:00.

"Hey Clark, Lana's going to be home soon, want to come pick her up with me from the bus stop?"  
His eyes get wide and he shakes his head.

"Clark, she's your best friend, you shouldn't worry. She cares about you very much."

He continues to shake his head. I sigh.

"You're going to have to face her eventually, Clark. She practically lives here. Come on."

"Maybe later."

He super speeds out of the house. I frown. At least I know where he'll be. We have a space up in the barn with all of the antiques from the Kent generations. I've been meaning to clean it up, but never get to it. Clark likes it up there for some reason.

Well, if he won't go the Lana. I'll have to bring Lana to him.

Lana and I just dawdled on our way home, picking wild flowers and making little bracelets out of them. I didn't mention anything about Clark, I wasn't sure what to say. But what surprised me was that Lana didn't mention anything either. 

Several children had to have seen Clark push Kevin through the door. And yet, none of them wanted to tell the principle what they saw. Are they just denying it? Or am I seeing the budding blossoms of friendship and loyalty I always hoped Clark would have? 

I smile as I lazily walk along as Lana tries to tie together a scarlet flax and crimson clover bracelet around my swinging wrist.

Now those children who saw what happened today know something is different about Clark. Will they treat him differently? Will he be an outcast? I look down at Lana, who's tongue is partially sticking out as she concentrates on knotting the last stems together.

Will she still treat Clark the same? I hate to admit it, but I grow nervous at the prospect of Lana not being Clark's friend. So much rests on her shoulders, because I beilieve the other children follow her stride. There is a charming, almost wise beyond her years sort of wit about her, which makes others look up to her. Especially Clark.

Last year when he was five, he came into the kitchen while I was finishing up some pies for a bake sale and said,

"Mommy, I have a secret."

I turned to him, a smile upon my lips as he stood there nervously grinning, holding clasped hands in front of him.

"Well, what is it Clark?"

He scooted a stool over next to me and shuffled himself to get on top of it. Kneeling on its seat he leaned toward me, his hands cupped around his little mouth. He put his face next to my ear, and I wanted to pull away because his breath was hot against my skin, and it tickled, which almost made me laugh. He whispered, 

"I love Lana Lang."

He let out a few more breaths and then sat back upon his haunches. Grinning I turned to his also grinning face. I giggled when he clasped his hands over his mouth, his eyes twinkling with delight. But then he began to giggle as well. I couldn't help but smile the biggest smile I've ever had. I winked at him. He put a little pudgy finger up to his rosy lips and shhh'd me.

"I guess that's our little secret then, huh?" He nodded, giggled some more and then climbed backward down off the stool.

"Mrs. Kent?"

I whipped myself out of my flashback and back into reality where Lana's questioning little face was smiling at me.

"Yes, Lana?"

"Why were you laughing?"

Was I? "Oh, just remembering something...wonderful."

"Can you tell me?"

"Maybe someday." I wink at her as we arrive at the house. My arms covered in wildflowers, and her gorgeous ebony hair sprinkled with petals.

She pauses at our front porch step. "Where's Clark?"

"Well he's - he's in - " I sigh. "Lana, do you want to talk to me about today?"

"I'd like to talk to Clark, first, Mrs. Kent. I'm worried about him."  
I take a step back, surprised at her maturity.

"Alright. He's in the barn."  
"Thanks Mrs. Kent."

Lana turned around, leaving her back pack on the step, and started walking calmly towards the barn. Curious, and a little nosy, I tiptoe after her.

I wait until she reaches the top of the loft stairs to sneak in and claim a place at the bottom of the stairs.

"Lana! Wh- what are you doing here?"

I cringe at the fear in Clark's voice. No one should ever have to feel afraid of their friends, especially no one this young. Especially not Clark, as you may have noticed, yes I play favoritism.

And as I sit there upon the wooden step I realize that this could be a pivotal moment in Clark's life. This is the first time someone has ever confronted Clark about being different. Don't be afraid Clark. Please Lana, oh please, do what I know you're capable of.

"Hi Clark. Your Mom told me you were up here."

Clark doesn't say anything, but I can hear his little heavy breaths, not sure of how to respond.

"Clark, I wanted to show you something."

I strained my neck to see what it was that Lana was attempting to show him, but I couldn't see anything without revealing my presence, and I knew that this moment belonged to them, even if I observed it.

"Lana! Are you alright? Did it hurt? What's that from?"

"Don't get so worried Clark. It's just a bruise. I get them all the time when we climb trees and run all around and stuff. Don't you?"

"I don- where did that come from?"

"From today, when Kevin pushed me."

Clark is speechless once again, reminded of this afternoon. Meekly, he stumbles over his words,  
"I didn't...I didn't.."

"You did protect me and Pete, Clark. Thank you."

I hear another silence before Clark quietly admits, "I wish I didn't push him so hard."

Softly, Lana agrees, "Yeah, me too."

I couldn't resist the opportunity to peek up at them. My heart almost melted by what I saw. They were hugging, Clark's head resting on her petite shoulder, his eyes closed. I watched as his face passed from sad to peaceful as he held her, or rather she held him.

I exhale as I realize Lana has done what I hoped she would, even though I didn't know what I was hoping for. There are some things that Jonathan and I will never be able to teach Clark. Lana fills in the gaps.

I sneak down the stairs, warmth upon my heart. I think he'll be alright now.


	7. Chapter 7

A few weeks later...

"I think it looks fantastic. What do you think?"  
"Pre-tty da-rn go-od!" Clark spoke in a silly long drawn out accent.

I held up the poster we had made together. Today Clark was the special star in his class, and he had to make a poster all about him and his family. We had worked all yesterday afternoon on it, adding as many pictures as we could find. Lana had helped out as well, which was obvious as now our house was covered in glitter.

Clark was glowing. He couldn't stop smiling he was so excited to be the special star, and get to actually talk about himself and show off pictures of him and his family to his class.

I have to admit I'm slightly nervous about it, but I know Clark won't be revealing anything about his powers, he just wants a chance to let his friends know more about us. I know Clark never takes the chance to talk about himself, and for once, I'm also genuinely excited for him to be able to do that.

As soon as they stepped off the bus, I knew it hadn't gone well. Clark dragged his backpack along the ground, getting dirt all over its front. He didn't walk with Lana and I, but instead hurried home, off in his own world. I glanced over at Lana who was watching him, with from what I could tell, concern.

"Lana."

She didn't hear me, but kept her focus on Clark.

"Lana." I said with a little more emphasis. Trying to keep her eyes on Clark, she turned to me,

"Yes?"

"Did something happen today?"

She didn't answer but turned her head away, her lips pursed tightly.

"Did something happen to Clark?"

Reluctantly, she admitted, "There were some boys teasing him today on the playground."

"Oh. What did they say?"

"They were calling him names. Mean names."

I looked ahead at Clark as he climbed the steps up to our front door. He carried himself lower than normal. His shoulders hung in a constant state of unhappiness. Oh, Clark.

He and Lana didn't play outside that afternoon, even though it was a beautiful day. After they finished their homework they sat on the couch with their crackers and apple juice, and watched cartoons. That might not sound strange, but it was.

Clark and Lana were not the type of children to be content with watching tv for hours on end. Mostly they would run around outside, climbing trees, collecting bugs. Or when they were indoors they would build forts out of couch cushions, spending all day within the confines of their imaginary palaces.

I sat down on the arm of the couch. Lana looked over at me but Clark continued to stare at the tv.  
"How did your special star day go?"

He didn't look at me, only muttered, "Okay," under his breath.

"Well, what did your teacher think?"

"She said it was great."

"That's good. Do you want to tell me about it."

"No. Not now."

Lana looked frustrated. If Clark didn't want to talk about something, I didn't want to force him to do it, especially in front of Lana, if it might have to do with his powers.

I sighed and got up to finish off some chores.

* * *

"What's wrong sport?"

We were eating dinner, well, Jonathan and I were eating dinner. Clark was apparently building a hill of mashed potatoes, porkchops, and green beans. He also hadn't said a word to us all evening. I hadn't asked him again about what had happened today. Maybe I should have.

Clark licked his lips and set his fork down, while sighing. "Why am I so different?"

Surprised, I sat up straighter, intent on hearing all of Clark's worries. Jonathan paused before putting another bite into his mouth. I wasn't sure what to say next and hated the awkward pause before either of us answered Clark's question.

He looked at us with pleading eyes, begging us to give him the answers. Hoping somehow that what we would say would make the problem go away. I wish it were that easy. I frowned a little. Clark's faith in our omnipotence was unsettling. I had never before known someone who had such complete faith in my abilities, not only as a mother, but as a person. He not only believed that I could do no wrong, but knew it without a doubt. Shaking his confidence on that matter, scared me. Would his love for me falter, even slightly?

I looked at Jonathan, who's mouth was tight, as I could tell he racked his brain for the answer other than the one we had dreaded one day telling Clark. Jonathan attempted to reply,

"Why is anyone different? Clark, the answer is, that we're all different. There's something about all of us that makes us unique and special. And with it, we add something to the world. Can you imagine what kind of world it would be like, if we were all the same? If we all looked the same, spoke the same, acted the same? Nothing would happen. Nothing would progress. Your differences are what keep the world going Clark. What you do with that knowledge, is what matters."

Jonathan seemed to be finished with his speech, and in so doing, let Clark know that the discussion was finished. Clark nodded and quickly began to eat his food.

But I could tell that answer didn't satisfy him. Clark spoke with a restrained voice the rest of the evening, smiled in a tight grin, and more scattered his food around his plate than ate it.

* * *

As I was tucking him into bed he asked me, "Mom, why didn't my birth mommy want me?"

I froze. What was I supposed to say? How can I say anything about a woman who sent her young child off into space? I don't know anything about the culture Clark came from. Sometimes I wonder about the life he actually had known before he came here.

There was one night about two years ago when Jonathan and I woke up in the middle of the night to Clark's screams. Not accustomed to being a parent and still half asleep, Jonathan asked,

"What was that?"  
"Clark, I think." Immediately I hopped out of bed and hastened towards Clark's room. He was still screaming in his sleep it seemed. I sat down on his bed and put my hand on his head.

"Clark, honey, wake up, wake up, shh, it's alright, it's just a bad dream."

But then he screamed louder and all of a sudden his hand thrashed out and hit his night stand, breaking it in half.

I screamed a little myself and felt Jonathan come up behind me and pull me back. I looked into his eyes for an answer. How were we supposed to help our little child, who we couldn't even get close to? Clark began to thrash around more and began to mangle his headboard and his bed. We ducked as a jagged piece of wood came flying our way.

Jonathan grit his teeth and then called Clark's name out loud. I took his lead and we both began to yell louder and louder for Clark to wake up.

And then, his eyes opened as he looked over at us, his small chest rising up and down quickly, in an attempt to calm himself.  
"Clark!" I rushed over and knelt beside his bed, grabbing him into a hug.

"Had a little night terror there, didn't we sport?" Jonathan sat down on the other side of the bed. Clark still a little unsteady looked back and forth between us.

"What were you dreaming about sweetheart?"

Clark swallowed and then looked up at me. In a very small voice he meekly said, "Fire. Earthquakes. Screams. Tears."

My mouth dropped open at his response. Fire? Earthquakes? How would Clark even know how to fear those things? It had been about seven months since we had taken him home. And he had never watched anything like that on tv. And then it struck me. He was thinking of his home. Wherever he had come from, something terrible must have happened.

"Clark, do you remember anything about where you came from?"

Clark thought for a second and then scuffled out of his covers. He walked over to his window and looked out at the star filled sky. He put his hand up on the window, and then turned back to us.

"Not anymore."

Jonathan and I looked at each other. I wondered if Clark really did forget where he came from, or had decided as he stood at there looking into the vast wonders of space, to block any memories of that place.

If something frightening had happened to his parents and they had no alternative but to send Clark away, then my heart just reaches for them. What a terrible fate. How could a mother send her very young son off into the universe by himself? I shiver at the prospect of ever having to do something like that.

And at the idea of Clark being completely and utterly alone soaring through the cold depths of space, when what a child needs more than anything at that age is touch and love. Clark had none of that. I held him closer. And yet, how am I to ever know if anything I imagined is truly what happened. I'm probably far off.

Clark's still earnestly waiting for an answer to his very important question about his mother. I start out slow, not entirely certain where I was headed.

"Sometimes, mommies and daddies can't take care of their children, so they let them be adopted. That way they can become a wonderful part of their families. Like you're a wonderful part of ours. I'm happy everyday when I know you're part of our family. I'm sure your birth mommy loved you very much. And I love you very much. You know that don't you?"

I ask as I start tickling him. He giggles and speedily crawls under the covers hiding from me. "Alright, I'm coming in." I reach under the covers and start tickling him. He laughs so lightheartedly, it makes my spirits soar.

"Okay!" He pants. "Okay, Mommy, I know, I know!" We laugh as I fall backwards on his bed and he snuggles up close to me.

As we catch our breath I ask him. "Clark, is there something you want to tell me?"  
He doesn't answer right away, but eventually he says, "There are some mean boys in my class."  
"What happened?"  
"When I was showing my special star poster, they laughed. The teased me on the playground. They laughed at me and asked me why I'm always playing with Lana, and not playing sports or tag with them. They called me a freak. They called me an alien."

I gasped at the harshness Clark had received. And I couldn't help but think it was my fault. And Jonathan's. We told Clark not to run around on the playground, or to play any rough sports. We're still afraid. It's not at all that we don't trust him. We know that there's not a mean bone in Clark's body, but he does seem to have his accidents. I didn't want him to be playing rough with other boys until he's got a better hold on his abilities.

"And I didn't have a baby picture, and I told them I was adopted. They said my real mommy didn't want me so she threw me away."

Clark looked up at me and was startled to find tears coming down my cheeks. Oh, Clark, how could they be so cruel? I held him tighter as I tried to stop crying.

"Clark, I'm sure she wanted you very much. And loved you more than anything in the world. But something must have happened so she wasn't able to keep you."

I wiped my eyes. Clark turned his head to me, and surprised me because he was smiling slightly.  
"But you kept me, didn't you Mommy?"  
I smile, laughing through my tears. "That's right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."  
He smiles bigger and hugs me. I hold on to him, remembering those first few nights after the meteor shower.

* * *

We were not so sure about keeping Clark then.

I had wanted him with all my heart and soul. But the truth was that we had discovered a boy who had fell from the sky, with a spaceship, and incredible strength and speed. We certainly weren't the most qualified people to raise him.  
We stayed up late nights trying to decide what to do. Who to tell, who to take the boy to. But I couldn't. I had fallen in love with him, even naming him after my family's name. Clark.

And it wasn't just the cherubic little face that held my loyalty so well. It was each little grasp of my hand. Every little grin he gave me. Every second he was in my arms. He was my child and I knew it. His birth parents weren't looking for him. A lab would be no place for him. His place was in the Kent home. On that fact Jonathan and I both agreed.

It was only until later, when Jonathan told me, he had decided he was going to take Clark and hand him over to a lab because he thought we wouldn't be able to handle him, let alone raise him right. He hadn't told me because he knew I had already fallen in love and would never let Clark go.

He had actually taken the time one day and set Clark in the truck while he had climbed into the drivers seat. He had looked over at Clark who was wearing one of Jonathan's blue plaid shirts and playing with a little toy dog. He grinned at Jonathan.

Jonathan told me as he looked at Clark sitting on the passenger seat it struck him. Clark was his son. And no one would be able to raise him but us.

We may not be what the world would call qualified to raise a child as special as this. But we know this is where Clark belongs, and where he can be loved.


	8. Chapter 8

About a month later...

Jonathan was attending the agricultural market in Topeka for a few days, so it was just me and Clark at home. I finished mucking out some stalls and hurried inside the house. The sky had become a strange greenish dark gray, and the wind was picking up, blowing my hair into a tangled mess. A storm was coming.

And in Smallville, the first thing to go out are always the lights at the Kent farm. Just that Kent luck, I suppose. I checked everywhere for batteries for our flashlights and electric lanterns. Strange, we're usually the best prepared people I know, but unfortunately, we were out..

But some decent candles, some apple cider, a big comfy quilt, and a bed time story were enough to keep Clark and I happy. I sent him to bed, and stayed up reading by candle light myself, until I was about to call it a night.

Then the phone rang. I jumped a little when I heard it. Phones always do that to me now. Who would be calling, its almost 11:00pm? I noticed it had started sprinkling outside as I picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Martha? Thank goodness. I had thought you were out of town."

"Nell?"

"Yes. Our power's out over here and...I...thought...I know this is a little odd, but do you think Lana and I could spend the night?"

"Um...I don't see why not, Nell is ther-"

"Great! Just have Jonathan pick us up. We'll be ready when he pulls up."

"Actually, Jonathan's in Topeka for a few days, but I can pick you up."

"Oh, well, then, okay, thanks Martha, you're a life saver."

"It's no problem."

Why in the world would that woman want to stay here because of some flickering lights? And why doesn't she just drive over here herself? Martha, stop that, and don't judge.

I look upstairs, where Clark is sleeping. Dare I leave him alone for ten minutes? I teeter totter on the lowest step.

I can't. I walk up to his room, and see him, already fast asleep under his big red comforter. He looks so peaceful, decked out in his blue power ranger pajamas. I can almost hear his little breaths echo throughout the quiet of our house. And as I stand there watching him, I realize how tranquil I feel.

When Clark entered our home, yes, he brought a great deal of stress with him. But he also brought comfort. A new kind of peace, I've never felt before. It's almost as if, with Clark there, somehow I know everything's going to be alright. It's strange to think that a tiny child's presence reassures me, but it does.

I sigh as I daintily step over to his bed and gently wake him. His eyelashes flutter softly as he looks at me, but then continues to slumber. I smile as I bundle him up. He's already such a big kid, it's a struggle to get him downstairs.

But somehow he stays asleep. I grab my keys and go out to our truck, and lay him on the passenger side. He opens his eyes slightly, "Mommy" he whispers, a smile on his cherry lips.

We pull up to Nell's house. And without the lights on, I have to admit their house is a little scary. She is just a single woman with a small child in a large, dark house. Then again, so am I right now.

Maybe it's just the fact of Jonathan's presence on our home that makes the difference. Or maybe, oh, I don't know. Don't ask me to explain the differences between me and Nell. I don't like thinking it, but I've never liked her for as long as I've known her. Which is a horrible thing to say. Generally, I do pretty much like everyone. I don't know why I can't like Nell, too.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that she and Jonathan used to date. Maybe it was that snobbish attitude she gave me when I moved to Smallville with Jonathan. The only redeeming quality I see in her is that she adopted Lana after her parents were killed. Of, course, she did get the Lang's home, and the money, which was considerable. Martha! Shame on you. Stop thinking such things!

I wave to the figures I see on the porch as I get out.

"Martha, thank you so much for doing this. You don't know how much it means."

She hands me their bags and I place them under the seat, and then slide Clark over to the middle.

"Hi Lana."

I grin at the sleepy little girl who Nell's picked up in her arms. The corners of her mouth turn up into a smile, while her eyes remained closed. I haven't seen Lana all day. It being a teacher workday, Nell had finally decided to spend some time with her niece. Nell gets in with Lana on her lap. I close their door and we head home.

I start lighting what leftover odd candle stumps I can find, and now the house is an odd mixture of scents, ranging from pumpkin to citrus, and many in between. I look back over my shoulder at Nell, who's sitting at our dining table with a nice warm cup of apple cider in her hands.

Her dark hair for once looks a little frizzy and unkempt. And her forehead is wrinkled in a frown of concentration. Maybe I was wrong about her wanting to come over here just because her power went out. Nell usually has a beautiful, pristine appearance. I finish lighting the candles as I say,

"Well, I don't see what's wrong with a little dark."

I hear her breathe a heavy sigh. "Martha. The reason I called you wasn't just because of the lights."

I paused, Nell and I have never really had a serious conversation before. I sat down beside her. 

"It's alright Nell, you can tell me."

"Well, my...my ex-boyfriend is...is a psycho. We just broke up a few days ago, and already he's showing me this aggressive, violent side of him I had never really seen. I thought I could handle it, but ...he really scared me today when he pushed me. And then threatened us both, me and Lana. He said he would..."

Her voice trails off in a weak whisper. I can see the tears in her eyes as she stares at her mug.

"Have you told the police?"

"He is the police! He's a cop, the deputy sherif, in fact."

"Our Brian, the deputy?!"

"See? I know no one would believe me."

"No, no, I believe you Nell."

She looks at me, wondering if I really do. And I do. I can hear her sincerity in her voice, and I can sense her fear in her quick cut movements. 

"This evening at my flower shop, I was cleaning and he showed up. We started fighting, and - and after he pushed me, I grabbed Lana and bolted for the door. Only then did I realize I had left my keys on the counter.

I paid for a taxi to take Lana and I home. But I think he took my keys, and I was frightened. I don't know if he's going to come after us right now or not. Finally I just decided to call you. I was scared Martha, I didn't know what to do. I thought Jonathan would be here...I'm sorry I'm bothering you with this."

"Nell, you did the right thing. But I think we should call the police."

"No! That's what he's waiting for, so he'll know where to find me. He'll never think to look here."

"Why not?"

"Frankly, he's intimidated by Jonathan. And he knows you and I aren't exactly best friends. There are a bunch of other places he'll check first." 

A silence passes between us. We both sip our cider as we take in what's just transpired between us. Nell Potter, is trusting me with her life, so to speak.

I turn my head to the family room to check on Clark and Lana. We had just dropped them off on the couch, together. They were still there, bundled up, sleeping peacefully, next to one another. Lana coughed, and then coughed some more.

I looked back at Nell. She looked concerned. Lana groaned and coughed again. Nell got up, went over and kneeled next to her.

"She woke up pretty sick today. You should probably move Clark so he won't catch anything."

Resting her hand against Lana's forehead, she exclaimed, "She's burning up! I think she has a fever."

I pull a washcloth out of a drawer in the kitchen and wet it. And then gently place it on Lana's little head. She did feel warm.

"Martha, where's your medicine? Do you have kids tylenol or something?"

"Umm, no. We don't have any...children's medicine."

"What? What do you do when Clark gets sick?"

I don't answer. Nell gets up and starts rummaging through one of their bags for medicine. Lana continues to cough, followed by small weak gasps. She looks red in the face. Clark begins to wake up.

"Lana?" He says sleepily.

"It's alright, she's just a little sick."

Quickly, he sits up and looks at her. "She's sick?"

Lana's red eyes shift over to Clark, who reaches out and takes her small hand in his. She smiles at him but then begins to start coughing again. The strain from coughing on her tiny frame causes her to have tears in her eyes. Clark looks more concerned then I've ever seen him.

He takes his other hand and gently places it on Lana's smooth cheek. And to my wonder, Lana's wheezes slowly become subdued. My jaw literally dropped. I watch on in amazement, as Lana's little body calms down to the point where she stops coughing completely. I can see her small chest peacefully rise up and down. Relief is in her eyes.

"Martha, don't you have any more candles?"

Nell brakes me out of my trance as I look up and notice my sorry candles aren't going to make it through the night.

"No, unfortunately."

Nell's voice begins to have a twinge of hysteria. "Um, we need candles, Martha. We can't stay in complete darkness, i-i-if Brian somehow makes it here, then we need light. And..and..and Lana, she needs medicine. I'd go buy some, but I left my keys..."

I sigh. "Alright Nell, I'll go into town."

"But it's almost midnight."

"Will you be alright when I'm gone?"

Nell nods her head. I grab my jacket and begin to take Clark away from Lana. Their hands stay intertwined as long as possible.

"Why don't you just leave Clark here? I'll watch him."

Why did I get Clark up? It would make more sense to leave him here. And it seemed as though his touch had helped her. But he's never been out of my care at nighttime. Dare I leave him alone with someone else? I look outside into the rain and the dark. For some strange reason I can't explain, I need him beside me tonight.


	9. Chapter 9

We drove along the empty darkened streets of Smallville. The 24 hour convenience shop was still open. However, being on main street, meant parking was a block away. I popped open our red umbrella and the two of us started scurrying along towards the shop. The street lights flickered, no one else was in view, and I became rather jumpy. Frightened at the smallest sound. I rolled my eyes, Martha, Come on, Smallville's one of the safest towns in America. 

But still my eyes shifted left and right, and behind me, trying to feel out into the darkness, making sure no one was there. I looked down at Clark, who unfortunately was getting splattered with rain drops because he was too far away from our umbrella. I sighed. I must be a terrible mother, to bring Clark out in the middle of a night during a storm.

He didn't shiver even if I was, he never does. My one hand felt chilled, yet the one holding Clark's hand was perfectly warm. It's like Clark's a source of heat and warmth, his temperature stays constant. He snuggled closer to me, while looking around much like I was doing. And then he looked up at me.

Caught off-guard, quickly I tried to change my worried face into a comforting smile. He saw me, and briefly I saw a twinge of fear behind those aqua eyes. But then, oddly enough he returned the comforting smile, and suddenly I felt safe inside. I felt warmth, and assurance. What is it about Clark that does this to me?

And not just me, but everyone he meets. Whenever someone comes in contact with my son, they come away feeling somewhat happier, somewhat lighter, than before.

The cashier was a very large, gruff man. He'd have to be if he worked the night shift. Not that Smallville had a high crime rate, if it ever had crimes at all. But every now and then, a nutball would pop up. And I hadn't seen any police officers close by that would be able to help if a criminal did show up, but then again, maybe that was better, with what I know about Nell's ex-boyfriend, Brian.

The man gave me a funny look as if implying he didn't approve of me taking my child out this late at night. I looked away, trying to ignore what he thought, and what he was right about. Why did I take Clark with me? He should have been perfectly fine with Nell. I mean he goes to school everyday without me, what's one hour without me? But he's never been alone at night before, and never at home. What if he was too comfortable and accidently showed Nell his powers? You know he probably wouldn't. So then why, Martha? Why would you drag this little slumbering babe out into the cold dark damp streets this late?

Walking back to our truck seemed more ominous than walking from it. For a second I thought I heard footsteps behind me. But no, my ears were playing tricks on me. Still, my pace quickens. Suddenly the flickering lamp posts finally go out completely and don't come back on. All sane reasoning left me and Clark and I began to run towards the truck through the raindrops.

And then a large figure stepped out of the alley, blocking our way. I screamed as we took several steps back. But no one could hear me, especially in the rain, even the convenience store was now too far away.

"Hey pretty lady, calm down. What'cha doing out so late?"

"N-nothing!"

I try to turn to the side and hurry past the man but he holds his arm out to block my way.

Suddenly the sound of a second raspy voice behind me uttered,

"I don't think so lady."

I snap my head around to see another figure of a man walking toward us in the dark. Beside me I hear Clark whimper. I feel my hands trembling, threatening to lose my grip on my shopping bag and umbrella. Oh Jonathan! I wish you were here!

Gulping, immediately I throw our umbrella at the man in front of me and begin to bolt.

"Hey!"

Suddenly, one of them grabs my hair and yanks it back painfully.

"AAUUuughhh!!"

I spin around and jut my elbow into one of my assailant's stomachs.

"Aauuooff!" He utters.

The other man then grabs my arms, yanking apart my connection to Clark and making me drop my bags.

"Mommy!" Clark's high pitched shriek rings out.

I try to struggle to get away but he grabs me harder and pulls me towards a black alley. The rain pours down on top of us, obscuring my vision. I scream for help, straining my throat, desperate to be heard.

The other man comes up and grabs my jaw, slamming my mouth shut. I bite my tongue in the process, bringing a sharp pain to my head. I close my eyes as tears leak out from the misery. I can taste the salty warmth of blood in my mouth.

I try to turn my head toward the opening of the alley, and shift my eyes to the side to see Clark. He's holding his hands on his head while he jumps up and down in jitters, tears streaming down his face.

"Mommy! Mommy!" He struggles to scream through his tears.

One of the men pulls me close to him and I can feel his face pressed into my hair, hear his sniffs, smell the alcohol rank on his lips. I yank away, utterly disgusted. But they hold me tight. One man's hand still covers my mouth so I try to bite down on his fingers as hard as I can.

"AAHnnh!" He screams as he jerks his hand away, dropping his grip on me.

With one desperate second I turn and yell, "Clark! Help me!"

The man I bit then retaliates with a harsh slap across my face. I'm knocked back into his friend.

They follow my gaze and my plea for help to the small boy with his hands over his mouth, crying uncontrollably. How odd to have noticed at a time like this, that this is the first time I've ever seen Clark cry. How dare they do this to me and my son! An unrecognizable anger rises within me so fierce and extreme I don't know where it comes from.

I scream and shout, and do everything I can to escape their grip. I kick one of them in the groin and try to run away. But no sooner do I get one step away from them, does one of them grab my hair again, twist me, and slam me into the muddy pavement.

All I can see are flashes of red and white in one eye as I feel the gravel on the ground scritch and scratch at my scrapped face. The pain thudding in my head is more than I can bear. I feel like vomiting. I almost do when they grab my feet and begin to drag me further down the alley.

"MOMMY!"

"Cl-Clark!" I can barely say a coherent word.

I watch him at a strange angle, from the depths of the ground, as though I'm not there but watching some terrible horror movie. Everything slows down, I can't hear Clark's screams anymore, or the rain falling. Only a constant beat that pulsates throughout my body. It overtakes my head and my mind, going slower and slower as I watch one of the men walk toward my little boy.

NOOO! I want to scream, keep away from him! But somehow I just can't control my own voice anymore.

Clark doesn't move. Run Clark! Run! I see his little eyes become wider and wider as the large man gets closer and closer. No no no no no, Jonathan, where are you? Jonathan, we need you! The man reaches out his arm and picks up Clark, who doesn't struggle, but fearfully looks at the man who abruptly throws Clark over toward me. Clark gets up and scrambles to me through the mire along the ground, his face red and blotchy from crying. He reaches out but doesn't touch me, my appearance must frighten him. I don't look like Mommy.

Recovering slightly from my fall, I raise myself by the elbow, grab Clark's shirt and pull him close to me. Weakly, I whisper in his ear, "Clark, you have to push them, just like Kevin, but harder. Push them with all your strength!"

"Bu-bu-but Mommy!"

One of the men grabbed my ankle and began to drag me backwards.

"Do it Clark!" I scream.

And then I watch as a terrified little six year old scrambles to his feet, and turn around to the man about to reach down and grab him. Clark swallows and then runs into the man arms first. He shoves him as hard as possible.

The man went flying. Everyone in that alley could hear bones cracking when he hit the brick wall behind him. The other man dropped my feet immediately.

"What the!?!"

I struggle away from him in his momentary lapse, but then he quickly he grabs my arm and tries once more to pull me away.

"Clark!"

Clark spins around watching as the man tries to drag me away. Clark's nostrils flare as he runs for my captor and hits the man with two closed fists. Immediately the man's hands are torn from my ankles and as I turn around, I see the him sailing through the air and fall onto the asphalt of main street.

I hear brakes screech as a police car almost runs the man over.

Gasping for breath, I turn to Clark, and pull him to me. He's shaking. And anger and frustration and hurt and guilt take over my mind. My face scrunches up as I try to stop the uncontrollable sobs fighting their way out of me. But come they do. I look down at Clark, who looks up at me. Tears and mud stain his face, as he looks to me for strength. I can't give it to him. I just can't. I don't have anymore to give. I cry harder. I see hopes dashed in Clark's face as he begins to gasp for air through his weeping. We sit, leaning against the alley wall. My hair is a muddy mess. My jacket's ripped, and my head stings and aches.

But I'm alive. All because of Clark. I pull him even closer to me. He holds onto my shirt and buries his face, trying to stop crying, but he can't. It's something he's not used to doing. We sit there holding each other, as if letting go would mean the end of the world. I close my eyes and rest my head on his soft black hair.


	10. Chapter 10

_2 months before the meteor shower_

I hear pure innocent laughter fill my kitchen like the crystal clear chime of bells. And I smile. The sunlight pours in through the windows creating a golden sheen on top of Lana's sable curls. Little lilac barrettes in the form of blossoms hold her hair back from getting in the chocolate chip cookie dough that's already found its way onto her nose.

She giggles at me. And I grin back. I turn to Lana's mother, Laura. Her dark brown hair curved in slightly above her petite shoulders. Her brown eyes sparkled with joy as she looked upon her daughter.

"You are so lucky Laura."

She calmly smiles as she shapes some of her cookies. And then wipes her hands on her apron.

"Any word yet?"

I pause, setting my hands down from my dough.

"No. And to tell you the truth, we've about given up. We don't know how much longer we can go like this."

"Martha, I'm sure whatever you and Jonathan decide, it will be for the best. And Lewis and I will support you in any way we can."

I smile in appreciation. "You've both already done so much. But we've been talking about it and we're very close to stopping."

"Is it the money? Martha, you're our best friends, you don't need to hesitate to ask."

"Well, yes partially, it is the money. But then, you know how Jonathan is about financial concerns. Mostly it's the stress. Did you know I have to take 4 fertility pills a day, plus have Jonathan give me one shot a day, all with no results? And then I get so tired, we just don't have the energy or the effort to enjoy life anymore."

"No one ever said it would be easy."

"I know. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. But then I look at your Lana and think - How could it not be? Just to have that little face. Little hands to hold."

Laura nodded knowingly. "It's worth it every bit."

I sigh and start breaking off little chunks of the dough and mold them into balls.

"Lana, your cookies are looking marvelous."

Lana grins up at me, with now additional flour spread across her cheeks. Laura and I laugh.

"Tanks Ms. Kent"

We both giggle at Lana's baby speech.

"Laura, how did you ever get her to be that polite? Compared to most kids her age, she's an angel."

"I know, strange, isn't it? I'm beginning to think she's not even my child. After all, she is being raised out here in the boonies, the middle of nowhere. You'd think she'd have the mannerisms of a cousin-marrying-redneck."

We both laugh. I add, "At least she won't be raised on a farm."

"Ha, that's right. You know if you have a son, our children would be perfect for each other."

"Agreed. As long as Lana likes younger men." Laughing I realize my cookies have become somewhat mis-shaped by my apparent lack of paying attention to them.

"But honestly Martha, I think the world would be in awe of a child raised by you and Jonathan."

I turn to her, surprised, "What?"

"Well, I would have to say that you're both some of the best people in this world."

"Haha, right."

"Martha, come on, even you have to admit that you give and give and give, and never expect anything in return. Plus the Kent morals and standards are pretty high. I can just imagine it now, your slogan, or your motto, or whatever, would be something like, 'Stand for truth, justice, and...oh I don't know, the American way.'"

Laura laughed as I shook my head and went back to my poor forgotten lumps of dough. Her voice took a more serious tone and I looked back at her.

"It's going to get harder as she grows, isn't it?"

"That's what I've heard."

"How do we teach our children the differences between right and wrong? There is no fine line to warm them about."

"I think that we'll best teach them by example. But you can't teach only by example, you can't assume they'll understand everything you want them to. I don't know how any parents really do it.

"Neither do I. Yikes, I'm already three years into an eighteen year plus commitment and I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Laura, you're a wonderful mother. You know that. I don't know what Lana would do without you."

"Well, I don't plan on going anywhere for a while. But, Martha, in case something does happen to Lewis and I, I've been thinking that maybe, I'd want you and Jonathan to be there for her."

"Oh Laura, of course we would be!"

"Well, Lewis and I still have to talk about it, and talk to Nell. I love her Martha, I really do, I just wonder sometimes."

"I know you do. But Nell's a good person Laura, both you and I know that. Plus she'd be Lana's only family if something happened."  
Laura turned away, looking out the window for a moment.

"You know Martha, I'm really not kidding about the world looking up to your kid. You're good people. And your child would be a reflection of that. He'll make a difference in the world."

"Lana will too."

Laura smiled. "I know. I know she will."

Lana had finished with her cookies, and held them up for my inspection. We agreed they would be the best cookies in all of Smallville. I placed them in the oven when Laura mumbled something under her breath.

"Hm?"

"Oh...I said not only Lana."

"Not only Lana - what?"

"Not only Lana, but her brother, or sister, too."

"Laura? Are you saying..."

A twinkle showed in her eyes as she looked at me. A small smile appeared on her lips.

"I'm pregnant."

Thrilled, I hugged her.

"Say that again!"

"Ma'am. Ma'am, are you alright?"

Laura's voice suddenly becomes a deep male's voice.

And then I hear the pitter patter of the rain, and feel it on my face. My clothes are soaked, my head is throbbing, and I feel little hands clinging to my blouse.  
I open my eyes and slowly look up. A shining light flashes in my eyes for a moment. Running up to us is a police officer with shaggy brown hair and a big nose.


	11. Chapter 11

"Brian!"

"Yes, I'm Brian- Mrs. Kent! Oh my gosh, what did these punks do to you?"

He kneels down immediately, concern upon his face. I wipe my cheeks with one hand and look down at Clark. It feels like he's stopped crying, but still trying to catch his breath. He doesn't look towards Brian but stays safe in my arms.

"They attacked me and my son."

"How did they end up like that?"

"I - I don't know. They started fighting and I just closed my eyes."

He sighs. "Let me help you up." He gently pulls me and Clark to our feet. I feel a little dizzy as I try to stand my own ground. "I'm gonna call an ambulance."

"That would probably be a good idea.." I just won't let them examine Clark.

I start to walk over to my bags dashed on the ground, but Brian hops in front of me.

"Let me get those for you Mrs. Kent."

He picks them up. However, instead of handing them back, he notices something through the transparent plastic, and immediately digs inside.

"Brian?" I ask with incredulity.

"Is Clark sick?"

Is Clark sick? Where did that come from? I try to comprehend what he's saying.

"What?"

"Is Clark sick?"

"N-no. What does that matter?"

I feel Clark's hand reach up to my face as I stare at Brian. Turning towards Clark I can see the worry and concern in his face for me, I must be doing worse than I thought. He seems completely aware of Brian's presence, yet oblivious of him at the same time, is that possible?

"You bought some children's medicine."

"So what does that matter?"

I must be disoriented, what is Brian talking about?

He closes my plastic bag, placing it back on the ground. Slowly, and almost menacingly he walks toward us. Now his voice is restrained, and sharp.

"Nell and her niece are staying with you, aren't they?"

Quickly I respond, "No, they're not."

"Liar! The little girl, she was sick this evening, and that's what the medicine's for - isn't it?!"

His voice gets louder, while I feel mine slides into whisper. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know what kind of person she is! She ripped my heart right out of my chest! She destroyed my life!"

Weekly, I plead with him, "Brian, no."

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna - ."

I can see the anger in his eyes, even in the darkness. His jagged steps to and fro give off a sense of urgency and danger. It's then I realize he's really going to hurt Nell!

"No! No, Brian!"

A groan from one of our assailants stops our argument. Brian takes out his radio and calls for an ambulance. I hear sirens as another police car pulls up besides Brian's. The other officer comes out and Brian talks to him. I can see Brian continually looking back at me. While they talk I pick up my bags. My head still aches, but the pain seems to be subsiding.

When I look back I see Brian walking away and get back into his car. Nell! He's going to my house for her! Quickly I grab Clark's hand and run to the other officer.

"Officer! Officer! We have to stop him!"

"Woah, slow down there Mrs. Kent. Stop who?"

"Brian! He's going to my house, Nell Potter's there!"

"I don't understand."

"He's going to do something to her! He's going to hurt her!"

"Mrs. Kent calm down. You've just been through something horrible, it's alright calm down. Brian's just on his way, responding to another call. Don't worry."

This officer is young, and earnest. I can tell he has my best interest at heart, but that isn't what's important right now. But just as Brian's car gets out of sight, my nerves tighten.

"No. No, I know he's going, and Nell's in danger. Please believe me."

"Mrs. Kent, why don't you just have a seat. Everything's going to be okay."

He smiles and offers his hand, but I just shake my aching head in frustration. I turn and begin running toward my truck. The young officer jogs in front of us.

"Mrs. Kent, wait, what are you doing?"

"I'm going home. Brian's headed there. Call Sherif Ethan, tell him to get there as soon as possible."

I open the driver's door and help Clark climb on up. He scoots aside as I jump in and start the engine. The officer places his hand on my window.

"Mrs. Kent! Mrs. Kent stop!"

We speed away before he can stop us. I begin to drive as speedily as I can back towards the farm.

After a few minutes, I calm down slightly and glance over at Clark. He silently sits beside me looking out the window.

His shirt is ripped. His clothes are muddy.

What have I done? Oh, what have I forced my child to do? An overwhelming feeling of depression suddenly enters my heart. I'm a terrible mother. I should have never never told him to...I can't...Clark, oh Clark, why did I tell you to do that?

I've just ripped apart everything we've ever told Clark about his powers. I could have screamed for him to escape, any sane mother would have done so. And what do I do, I yell for him to jump into danger. But he saved my life.

I feel tears begin to slide down my cheeks again. I can't tell what Clark's feeling right now. He looks blankly ahead. His eyes cloudy, and his skin somehow flushed and pale at the same time. He turns to me. And in his eyes I see worry.

"Was that a bad police man?"

I sniff and speak through a nasal voice. "Brian? Yes, yes I think he is."

Confused, Clark continues his question. "But...he's police?"

"I know, and police are usually very good. But this one may be bad. He's going to our house, and he may hurt Nell and Lana. We have to...we have to try to stop him."

"He's gonna hurt Lana?"

"Maybe, I don't know. We've just got to get there as fast as possible."

We drive in silence until finally I force myself to utter something,

"You saved my life Clark."

He looks down at his small hands. "I used my strength."

"I know, I know...but sometimes, it's important to use it. If someone's life is in danger you should. You just have to make the right decisions."

"The right decisions...if Lana's in danger?"

"If Lana's in danger, yes. But only real danger. Not from a push or from getting teased. You have to make sure you use your strength, and your speed at the right times. Because everytime you do, even to help someone, it's risking your secret. And then someone might...might..."

"Take me away."

Oh, no. I did it again. Martha. I start tearing up again. Clark puts his little hand on mine, gently comforting me, only the way he can.

"You understand that what you did was a good thing, right Clark?" Do I understand that?

Quietly he responds, "I do."

He nods and then looks up to me with a slight smile of love and courage behind his eyes, which surprisingly gives me strength. I sigh, and hope I'll come to realize what I've done was for the better as well.

"Why?"

I glance over at Clark, who's eyes peer up at me begging for a response.

"Why what?"

"Why did those men hurt you? Why is that police man going to hurt Lana?"

I look away and swallow. Choosing my words carefully and slowly I try to respond to his question.

"Sometimes, the problem people have most of all is that...they don't think about consequences. They just let something take over them, and do nothing to stop it. All care and thought for others is abandoned and all they care about is themselves. Then they'll do anything to make themselves feel good, no matter what. Even if others get hurt in the process. And that's very wrong, Clark."

I look at him, wondering if he even understood my words. But he seems to be thinking. I can see the gears of his mind rotate behind his eyes.

"Very wrong." He whispers.

"Life is the most precious gift we've ever been given Clark. Never forget that."

"I won't."

I pull up to our house and see Brian's squad car already there. I swallow. The lights are still off, the rain is sill pouring. This is stupid Martha! Don't even think about going in! But in my mind mental images of Lana, and Nell appear. I can't just wait until the police get here, can I? What if they don't come? If it's in my power to help them, then I should.

I take my seatbelt off but don't move. It's one thing to act when acted upon, another thing entirely to enter the fray willingly. I look over at Clark. I can't take him inside. I just can't. After what I've made him do tonight already. But Clark's powers could be helpful. What if Brian has a gun...I don't want Clark anywhere near him. I have to do this on my own. Oh, Jonathan, I wish you were with me.

"Clark. I want you to stay here." He looks up confused at me, as I continue, "It could be very dangerous, and you've been through enough tonight. Please stay safe, I don't want anything to happen to you. Do you understand?"

He frowned but nodded his head. I take a deep breath and hug him tight.

As silently as I can, I go around the side of the house to our back door. I slide the key in and try to open the door as quietly as possible. All of my candle's must have gone out because it's exceedingly dark inside. I shiver. I stand at the edge of the doorway, feeling every urge to leave.

And then I hear Lana crying.


	12. Chapter 12

Suddenly beside me I feel something touch my hand. I jump and almost make a sound, but thankfully, I don't. Clark is standing there close to me.

I whisper, "Clark, what are you doing?"

"The right decisions."

"What? Oh, no, Clark, I meant, well, I – "

"I can help, Mommy. I want to help."

"But...but...oh, Clark."

I grasp Clark's hand. We look at each other for a moment. And then Clark pulls me inside, and I don't stop him. Why am I doing this? I have no idea, I'm not even sure if I'm thinking clearly. I can't be!

Softly we make our way to the hallway. Lana's crying is coming from the family room. I risk taking a quick peek. I almost gasp. At the far end of the room, Nell is tied to a chair with duct tape over her mouth. Tears are streaming down her cheeks.

Brian stands before her, his back to us. Lana sits with her back to us. She's far from them on the couch, so close, I could move in four feet and touch her. Brian's talking and to my horror, begins to wave around his gun.

"I told you Nelly, we were supposed to be together- forever! And I told you - I'd be very angry if we weren't! Now you and your little girl are going to pay."

Lana begins to cry even louder.

"Shut up!" He yells without looking at Lana. She stops crying. Brian continues talking to Nell, and I decide to take an even bigger risk.

Motioning for Clark to stay, I turn around and dart into the family room. I grab a hold of Lana, tightly covering her mouth. She struggles instantly, but then looks up and sees me. I put a finger to my mouth, and make sure she understands. Her glistening eyes seem to nod. I let go of her mouth, but grab her hand and rush her out of the room.

When she sees Clark she immediately leaves me and grabs him in a hug, almost crying out, but surprisingly Clark covers her mouth. The two look into each other's eyes and then Clark releases her. She almost seems to fall into his arms, wanting to be comforted by her best friend. Wanting him to take all her worries away.

I hate to do it, but I pull them apart and lead Lana to the kitchen and make her hide under a counter. I point at her and gesture for her to stay there. I can do nothing else but pray she understands. And then I take Clark's hand and head back to the family room.

I should be incredibly nervous. Normally I would be. But somehow, with my children there, I can't be nervous. I have to protect them, and somehow my head no longer aches. I have the need to think clearly. Even as a dangerous plan forms in my head.

I listen to Brian talk. He's yelling even louder now. He's crude, and he uses profanities that make me want to cover my own ears, let alone Clark's. And he threatens her. With abuse. And even rape. I can hear Nell scream beneath the tape. He's worse than those two thugs.

He's so loud, I don't fear whispering to Clark. "Clark, I want you to use your fastest speed to grab the man's gun, then give the gun to me. Do you understand?"

Clark nods at me. I don't see fear in his eyes, only the desire to protect the ones he loves. My brave, brave little boy. How can you be so brave?

I nod at Clark and immediately he's holding out the gun in his hands. Startled at Clark's speed it takes me a second to take it from him.

"WHAT THE?" Brian yells.  
I stare at Clark and motion for him to stay there, being more stern than I ever have. This is no time to start disobeying me. You could die Clark. Stay there. Please let him understand.

I take a deep breath and enter the living room, gun pointed at Brian, who turns around, completely shocked to see me. He asks with incredulity,

"Mrs. Kent? How'd you?"

"Lie face down on the ground with your hands on your back."

He pauses for a second, surprised by my sudden aggressive appearance, but then almost chuckles. Lightning flashes and I can see a crazy gleam in his eyes. A chill runs down my spine.

"Or else what? You gonna shoot me Mrs. Kent?"  
"Yes."

He looks perturbed for a second, and then sickeningly smiles. He starts walking toward me.

"Right. Just give me the gun and everything's goin--"

KAH-POW!

I pulled the trigger and fired it at him. I think it scrapes his left shoulder. He screams in pain and clutches his shoulder.

My hands immediately start shaking and I can't stop them. I feel like I can't breathe. I've never fired a gun before. The power and the carnage frighten me out of my mind. But I force myself to talk, albeit much less in control then before.

"L-l-lie down an-an-and p...ut your hands on-your-back."

He hesitates, and I scream, "Do It!!"

A look of disgust covers his face as he kneels down, and puts his hands, rather painfully on his back. Sarcastically he asks,

"Now what?"

In an answer to his question, and an answer to our prayers, we all hear police sirens pull up to the farm.

"You're going to jail."

The police knock on the door and I call for them to come in. Ethan and two others enter and stop when they see the scene in front of them. I see Brian's eyes light up and he begins to talk.

"Thank goodness you're here. She grabbed my gun after I discovered Ms. Potter here tied up in her living room."

My head jerks back in complete surprise and my face is appalled. I lower the gun, though. Somehow I can't seem to come up with words to combat Brian's outrageously false tale .In shock I look at Ethan. He looks at all three of us. My desperate pleading eyes, Brian's manipulative ones, and Nell's frightened ones. She shakes her head vividly. Ethan speaks,

"It's alright Martha, give me the gun, I can tell what happened." He turns, suddenly fiercely cold, and says, "Brian you're under arrest."

"NO!" Brian screams. He leaps forward and grabs my legs, forcing me to trip and fall. I can feel his constantly scratching fingers striving to claw at me. Immediately the other officers pull him off me and force him to the ground.

I struggle away from him, my breaths shaky and uneven. Ethan helps me up. I look around. Brian is being put into handcuffs and being led away. Everything's fine now, and yet, now is when I burst into tears. Ethan pats me on the back.

I go over to Nell and begin to free her.

"Oh, Martha! Thank goodness you got here! If you hadn't come- I - I - I don't know what would've happened." Even before she stops talking she starts crying, struggling to speak coherently. We hug each other as we cry on each other's shoulders.

"The kids!"

We rush over to the kitchen and find our little frightened children clinging on to each other underneath the counter. When they see us they too, even Clark burst into tears. We grab them into great big hugs. We all cry and cry until we have no tears left. We swap children back and forth and even bring Ethan into our little circle. His cheeks turn red, and we soon release him. We begin to laugh as the electricity turns back on with perfect timing and the house looks like a completely different place.

Exhausted, we sit on the kitchen floor with the children in our laps. Lana looks lovingly into her aunt's eyes. I see how much Nell cares for Lana, and I kick myself for ever doubting her. She really is the mother Lana's been missing. I smile and hold Clark closer.

"I'm so so very proud of you." He smiles up at me. I laugh again and he laughs. Oh, how I love his laugh, rarely heard, and yet so sweet, so pure, so good. A sound I will never tire of hearing for as long as I live.

Nell and I lean against the counter and each other. We share a passing glance. The two of us understand something only mothers could understand. The children are safe. And that's all that matters.


	13. Chapter 13

"Will you come to my birthday party, Mrs. Kent?"

Of course I would, I was helping Nell plan it. "Yes, sweetheart." Lana grinned and began to run after Clark. And Pete Ross.

Yes, I had begun to let Clark play with other children. It was about time too. He needed to experience the world outside of Lana, and us. And Pete and he had become the best of friends.

It happened after our terrible incident with Brian. Jonathan had rushed home, and taken Clark and I into his arms. Claiming to never leave home again. I laughed and told him then we'd be awfully tired of him after a while. But as he held me, he knew I was relieved to have him home again.

Clark wasn't mopey or sad, which a small part of me had been fearing he might be. But instead, he engaged Jonathan and I in a series of discussions about why bad things happen to good people, and what should be done about it.

I can't say I was surprised. I wonder, if with time, Clark will use his abilities to defend those who can't defend themselves. I have no doubt in my mind that if the occasion rises, he will.

Sadly, he and Lana were not spending so much time together nowadays. Which is when I began to let Pete over more often. And even let Clark spend an afternoon or two over at the Ross's home.

It turns out the trauma that Nell went through, is what it took for her to take an interest in Lana's life. Lana had trembled several days afterward. We had done everything we could for her, but that poor child had seen so much devastation in her life, it was difficult to console her.

I was folding some clothing in our laundry room, when I noticed the tv had gone off.

I peeked my head around the corner and saw Clark with the remote in his hands, sitting absolutely still, staring intently at Lana. Was something wrong? I dropped a small plaid shirt and began to move towards the pair.

As I edged along the side I saw Lana shivering, even though it was a beautiful warm, sunny day. The house had become silent, and that's when I could hear Lana weakly gasp for breath as tears slipped down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy. How long had she been crying like this? All afternoon? She hadn't turned away from the tv yet, but knew Clark was looking at her.

Clark slowly held out his hand toward her, palm up. His tiny fingers earnestly swayed, waiting for her to respond. She turned her head, keeping her eyes on Clark's hand. And then timidly raised her hand and placed it in his.

He topped her hand with his other hand and just held it there for a minute. I wondered if I should intervene, to try and help Lana, but something told me that Clark was what she needed.

He didn't say anything, but his peaceful face soon turned into a calming smile. There was a glow about Clark which seemed to spread from his heart to his fingertips over through Lana's delicate hands, and up throughout her.

Lana didn't smile, and tears softly continued to fall down her face. But there was a warmth in her eyes now. She wasn't crying for the same reasons. She took a shaky breath, but had stopped shivering. She gazed with wonder at Clark.

He scooted over closer to her and held her in his arms as she rested her head on his shoulder.

It was a mesmerizing scene, and I had a hard time getting back to my chores. Everyday, I'm simply amazed by Clark's ability to strengthen the human soul, without even uttering a word. My life is blessed when he's here. I had a feeling that Lana would once more triumph in the face of disaster.

Nell and Lana were always together now. At the flower shop, at home, laughing, singing, and just being content with finally having a family. I smiled, even though I missed that cherubic face being at my house each afternoon.

"Clark and Lana sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!" Pete called out.

I looked over where Clark and Lana were standing in the middle of our front yard holding each other's hands. Immediately, with embarrassment, they let go. Pete laughed at his joke, as most little boys do. Clark's cheeks had begun to redden as he turned and looked at Lana. She, on the other hand had put her hands on her hips and was staring at Pete.

"Peter Ross. I saw you kiss Abigail Fallon today, underneath the slide. Are you her boyfriend?"

I almost laughed out loud. Pete had suddenly gone pale with the mention of Abigail's name. He began to stutter. But then Lana laughed and said,

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"Me neither." said Clark.

"As long as you don't tell anyone that Clark and I are going be married." Lana suddenly skipped away giggling. Leaving both boys with open mouths and wide eyes.

I found Clark up in the loft the day of Lana's party, intent in his work. Moving closer I gasped with surprise at what Clark had created.

A miniature village of wooden fairy statues stood around little wooden houses.

"Clark, this is beautiful! Did you make all of these?"

"Yes."

"How come I never knew?"

"I wanted to keep it a secret." He smiled at me and held one of the fairies up for my inspection.

I took the small object, no more than 4 inches tall, delicate, light, and simple, it was a mark of Clark's hard work, and effort that he had put into it.

"They're my present. For Lana."

Each creation before my eyes bore the care and affection he felt for his best friend. I sighed.

"Clark, you're a very good friend. And a good boy. You take time for everyone you know, considering what would make them happy. Although, I've never seen you accomplish something of this magnitude. You should be very proud. She's going to love them all."

He grinned. "I hope so."

We gathered together his craft into a nice little empty trunk we found in the loft. We tied some pretty ribbons around some lilacs and placed them through a metal hoop at the top of it.

Clark was excited. His gift looked beautiful. I could tell he was looking forward to making her happy.

We walked over early to help set up the decorations. Nell greeted us and let us in. Lana came bounding down the stairs in a light blue jumper and a tiara in her ebony hair. Nell had let her put glittery sparkles on her cheeks, and she looked every bit the birthday girl. She was excited as well and gave us a big grin.

"Wow! Clark! That's beautiful!" She said, admiring the trunk he held in his arms.

"Oh, honey that must be heavy, let me put it down for you." Nell picked up Clark's trunk and was surprised by the weight of it.

"Wow, strong little guy, huh?"

After placing it near a glass table, Nell turned back towards us, clasped her hands together, and said,

"Well, let's get to it."

All four of us made our way over to the kitchen where Nell had been baking up tons of delicious confections. Much too fancy and rich for six and seven year olds in my opinion, but Nell wanted to do this.

I started helping with cooking, as Nell led Lana and Clark over to the dining room table where she had set out organized piles of little toys, candy, and trinkets.

"Okay, now these are for the goody bags. Put one of each item into each of these little baggies. Those are for the boys, and these are for the girls. Got it?"

Lana and Clark nodded their heads, smiling. I'm sure they were smiling because they were more excited to be able to handle and play with the little toys before anyone else, more than put together treats for the other children.

We put on some music, and got to work. Finishing baking, and decorating, along with some singing, and dancing.

It was quite amusing to watch my little Clark groove to the music. I and Nell would show them some of our moves, which made us all laugh, but then Clark and Lana tried to imitate us, which made all of us laugh so much, we began to tear up. The kids held hands and shook their little tooshies back and forth, and galloped all around the house.

We got the prizes ready for the winners of games, and we even had our own game of tag when we went outside to bury the hidden treasure. We came back in acting like pirates, and quickly went back to ourselves as the first guest arrived. This was going to be a fantastic seventh birthday party.

As the children kept arriving, they engaged in a game of freeze dance. Nell let Lana take control of the boombox, as she led me back to the kitchen.

"Martha, I wanted to show you something." She opened a cupboard and took out a little lead box. Opening it, she revealed to me a captivating, almost magical looking green jewel bound to a silver chain.

"It's my birthday present for Lana. I had it custom made."

"It's enchanting . What stone is that?"

"It's actually made from the meteors. The very one that took Laura and Lewis's life. I think that so much bad luck came out of it, there can only be good luck left."

Haunting. I picked it up. It almost seemed to glow as it reflected a dazzling display of green light against my skin. I felt a shiver flow across me. Strange, and yet so enrapturing, as if it held a viewer spellbound to it's beauty.


	14. Chapter 14

The party had been a success. Towards the end of the afternoon, there was a spirit of joy in the air as Lana, Clark and eight other little children waited eagerly for Lana to open her last few gifts.

After unwrapping her third Barbie, and yet still screaming for joy when she saw it, the only presents left were Clark's and Nell's. We were all seated around the living room. The curtains were drawn back revealing a gloriously sunny day. I smiled content as I watched Clark's non-stop grin as he sat next to Lana. After each present was opened, she would say, "Look Clark!" And he would smile even bigger.

"Alright, what present's next?" Nell asked.

"Oooo Lana! Open this one! It's pretty!"

One of the little girls held up Nell's little lead box, now covered in shiny metallic purple wrapping paper, with a frilly, silky bow right on top of it. Lana smiled, took the present and placed it in her lap to unwrap it.

She turned her head to face Clark and all of a sudden it seemed as though time slowed down to me. All sound ceased to exist. Her hazel eyes locked with his aqua ones in a minute of pure joy. She grinned at Clark, who gave her a grin in return. Their faces appeared frozen in the moment to me. I soaked up every little detail I could from that scene. I had the strangest, depressing emotion, that I would never see them like this again.

And then it was over. The thundering laughter and chatter of ten first graders fell back into my ears. I shook my head, as if trying to regain reality. I watched as Lana tore off the purple wrapping paper and revealed the delicately crafted lead box. Their smiles were momentarily replaced by curiosity. Lana held the box up so sunbeams shone on it. And then, ever so gently, she lifted the lid.

Her face turned into a face of wonder as she gazed at the enthralling jewelry before her. It's sparkling green gem reflected in her eyes. She softly smiled at it, entranced by its mysterious appearance. She picked it up and put the lead box down in front of her. We all watched wordlessly as she clasped the silver chain around her neck.

As though, in a trance, suddenly a loud crash jolted the rest of us back. I turned my head to discover a fearsome sight. The small trunk had been knocked open, scattering and breaking Clark's masterful creations upon the ground. A broken fairy head rolled and hit my shoe. And on top of the desolated pieces lay a tiny boy. Clark!

How strange for me to not realize it was him when I saw him! Panic suddenly seized my heart, squeezing it, until I felt I could not breathe. I rushed to him before anyone could say anything. I quickly turned his small body over. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes, a grimace on his face. His chest rapidly raised up and down, as he gasped for breath. But it seemed as though no breath would come. His face scrunched up in pain as he looked into my eyes.

"Clark!"

His eyes rolled back, leaving frightening whites. I noticed a deep scratch on his cheek. I gasped. A scratch!! How could he get hurt so easily?

"Clark! Clark, honey, wake up!"

But he didn't stir. His body felt lifeless, and limp in my arms. Was he dead? No, of course not Martha! Don't panic, don't panic. I gently slapped his face, and then slapped it harder.

"Clark wake up!"

This has never happened to him before. What's wrong? What's wrong? I held him up against my chest, shaking him slightly. He had a sickly appearance. Pale.

"Martha, should I call 911?"

911? Should she? No, she can't! He can't be examined by doctors. I have to...I have to...oh, I don't know, what should I do? Jonathan!

"No, no, he's gonna be okay, I'm just going to take him home for a little bit. He'll be okay."

I picked Clark up in my arms and struggled to stand. I waded my way through little eyes staring, not sure what was happening.

"NO!" Shrieked a shrill voice. "No Clark! We're supposed to be happy! No! He has to be okay!" I felt Lana's little hands grasp at Clark's dangling arm, pulling at it. Tears had already started streaming down her face. She knew as I knew that something was wrong, very wrong. Poor child, she's had enough tragedy already!

"Lana!" Nell pulled her off of Clark. I turned to Lana, wanting to reassure both her and myself at the same time.

"He's going to be okay Lana. I promise." I promise! Why did I say that? But no matter, I rushed toward the door, my arms already beginning to tire from the load.

"Here, Martha, take my car." Nell handed me her keys. I ran towards her car, lay Clark on the seat next to me and peeled out of the Lang driveway.

I think the only sound I was aware of was the beating of my heart. What was wrong with Clark? Why wouldn't he wake up? My child, my baby!

As we approached the house, I heard a moan beside me. And then to my ultimate relief, I heard the word, "Mommy?"

Oh, Clark! I pulled up to the house and parked the car.

"Clark! You're okay!"

He sat up and looked confused. I grabbed him into a hug.

"Mommy? What happened?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."

He scrunched up his little face, trying to remember. How strange, he looked completely healthy now, almost as if nothing had just happened. And the scratch - it was no where in sight! I marveled at this little boy. And thanked God he was alright.

"The last thing I remember was feeling awful. Worse than I've ever felt. It was terrible, Mommy. I think I tried to get to you, to make it better, but I didn't make it. I tripped, and - oh no! Lana's present!"

A look of urgency entered his face. Sadly, I had to reveal the truth.

"Clark, many of the fairies and their houses were broken."

And then I watched silently as sorrow overtook Clark's young face as he realized all his hard work had been destroyed.

"Lana's present, I ruined it. I ruined everything."

"No, no Clark, you did not. Sometimes things break and we feel bad, but they can be fixed, too. We'll figure out a way to repair your present. Many times the reason things break is just so we can learn to mend them. Nothing is broken forever, no matter how hard it may hurt."

He looked up to me, hanging onto every word I said. Never have I seen a child that intently listened to an adult's every word.

"I have to go back, I have to-"

"You're not going anywhere for the rest of the day, Mister. Something terrible just happened, and we don't know why. I want you to stay home."

Meekly he rebelled, "But it's Lana's special day. I have to be there."

"Clark. You know how much Lana cares for you. She'd rather you be alive and healthy, then playing pin the tail on the donkey with her. We'll call them and let her know you're all right."

Clark frowned. But then nodded. He began to open the door but I grabbed his shoulder. He looks back at me questioning. I can't say the words that are bursting within me, it would show how very frightened I was. I think I almost lost you today. You. My only child. My special baby from the stars. I don't know if I could go on living without you. Don't you ever do that, ever again.

I hug him hard one last time before letting him go find his father. I remain in the driving seat thinking that if Clark could read minds, he'd know how weak I really am. I sigh. Both my boys have false illusions of me. I'm not strong, or courageous, I'm just me. A worry-a-holic.

A few minutes later a hand rests on my open window. Calloused, tan, and rugged, his hands are beautiful to me. I look up at him. He softly smiles.

"I know what you're thinking. But the truth is Martha, you are the bravest woman I've ever known. And there's no one more capable of raising Clark then you are."

I quietly chuckle as he opens my car door and lends me a hand out.

"Now, why don't we figure out what happened together?


	15. Chapter 15

_October 1989_

"Jonathan! The Scotts!

As our truck sped past the Scott's farm, I watched, wide-eyed, shocked to see their land and property destroyed. Horses ran where they wanted. Giant Meteors from space were scattered over the land. Their home, destroyed.

A little hand goes up on the window in front of me. The little boy, now dressed in a big plaid shirt looks out intently at the destruction. He takes his hand away. But it left a mark on the window. I raise my hand and wipe it off, but my hand jerks back. I gasp.

"What?"

I look at Jonathan with my mouth open, and then back at my finger tips. The window was cold to the touch. So very cold. Silently I looked at the boy, who continued to gaze out at the ruined land, blazing with fire and smoke. I'm not sure if I really saw what I thought I saw in his eyes, but there was fear, and a sorrow there I would never expect to see from one so young.

We didn't stop at the Scotts farm, but continued past toward the center of town, main street. The black billowing smoke was visible from our farm. The Kent farm had miraculously been saved, as well as the Lang's home.

But most of our hometown had not been so lucky. As soon as it had come, this fire from the sky, it vanished in a violent explosion of insanity. Leaving Smallville in utter chaos, and devastation.

We had only spent one hour at home, huddled in the storm cellar, waiting for the danger to pass. 

I had brought this strange little boy who had so suddenly captured my heart inside our home and draped him in one of Jonathan's blue plaid shirts. He made no noise but slyly smiled at me. I lifted him up on the kitchen counter, and buttoned his shirt. I rubbed my hand over the top of his fuzzy head, his hair felt exotic, softer than any hair I'd ever felt, not quite normal.

"Where could you have come from? Hmm, little guy?"

Where did this little angel come from? I didn't know, and I wasn't sure if I cared. All I knew was that he was mine, and no one was coming looking for him. He was an answer to my prayers. I had prayed for so long and for so hard, ever since we had been told I would never have an angel of my own.

It was dangerous driving in town, many times we had to avoid overturned vehicles, and large pieces of debris. Not to mention the electric cables hanging down to leave sparks on the asphalt.

"Jonathan, stop! Look, it's Nell!"

Immediately Jonathan pulled over, and jumped out. Quickly, I and the little boy followed. Nell appeared to be hyperventilating, wide eyed and in shock. She was dirty, and perhaps injured. So were the other dozens of people who were running around the streets.

Nell didn't even seem to acknowledge the little girl dressed in a pink fairy costume in her arms, with a red face, streaked with dirt and tears. A man with a camera ran up and snapped a picture of Lana and then ran away.

"Hey!" Jonathan yelled after the man, but he paid no heed. We rushed over to Nell and Lana. I brought a blanket from the farm, and draped it over Nell's shoulders.

"Nell? Nell? Are you hurt?" Jonathan asked her.

"Lana, oh, Lana, come her, my sweet." I picked the sobbing little girl out of Nell's arms and cuddled her within my own. The little boy watched us, absorbing every bit of information he could.

Lana screamed, but quieted down and was comforted in my arms. Soon her wails became soft weeping noises as she rested her head against my blouse. Had this been the child who only hours before had the happiest smile on her face, waving her wand, granting wishes? Wishes. I had wished for...I turned to look at the little boy who reached up to me.  
I knelt down and wiped the smudges off of Lana's face. The little boy placed his hand on Lana's head, and another hand on her face. She didn't jerk back or cringe like I thought she would, but instead let out a deep sigh and looked back at my boy.

"Nell, do you know where Lewis and Laura are?"

"They...they...Oh!" Nell began to sob as she gestured behind us. We turned and I started shaking so much, I feared I would drop Lana.

It took me a few moments, amongst the screams of the townsfolk to realize just what I was seeing. But I didn't want to see it. I covered Lana's eyes, although she had already witnessed the horrific accident. I closed my own, as tears fought their way past my eyelids.

"Oh my" I managed to sob in a strange high pitched, strained voice. I placed Lana down, who began to cry again, as I sought to control myself. I kneeled in the debris of the street as I heaved in shock and grief. I saw Jonathan out of the corner of my eye, slightly shivering, unsure of what to make of all this destruction. Nell was still holding herself, sobbing against the wall of her flower shop.

But the boy, my curiosity got the best of me, and my crying slowly ceased as I watched the tiny boy begin standing, absorbing everything that was going on around him. Eventually his eyes came to rest on me, and the little girl next to me. He reached out his hand and bent his small pudgy fingers back and forth, as though motioning for me to come forward. He smiled slightly.

I was utterly confused. I'm not sure I could understand anything in my present condition. He began to walk forward. He took Lana's hand and helped her to her feet. She wiped her running nose on her puffy sleeves and looked up at the little boy. He gave her a smile, and then turned to me and motioned again. He began to walk away, holding Lana's hand, yet continued to turn around and motion me forward. I got up slowly and began to follow him.

We walked around a large pile of wood and other debris, and on the other side the little boy reached under a large piece of wood and looked at me. He let go of Lana's hand, and began to pull at the wood.

And then I heard a groan.

I gasped. Someone was under there! And they way they were buried they probably wouldn't have been found for days in this chaos, I didn't stop to think how he had found the person, I just accepted it. Quickly I rushed forward and began to help the little boy remove the planks, and scraps. I called Jonathan, and he rushed over. Soon we had uncovered a young woman. She was bleeding from her left leg, was covered in gray dust, and was coughing. She looked at us with gratefulness and thanked us. We got her to a temporary medical tent and went back out into the destruction.

There was no pausing now, only a few moments here and there to shed a tear or think a sad thought. Person after person we continued to find with the little boy's help. Most of the people we found owed their lives to him. Soon, more and more individuals had come to help, and with the rescuers aid, and ours, soon we were finding the last survivors and injured along the main streets of Smallville.

We got Nell to the tent as well, however Lana continued to stay with us, holding onto the little boy's hand the whole time. I watched them continually the whole day and on into the night, as I handed Lana a flashlight of her very own. His presence seemed to strengthen the little girl. I honestly don't think she would have survived this terrible ordeal if not for his hand to comfort her.

I watched as she taught him how to use certain tools, or toys they had found. She would pick something up and explain it to him, as though realizing, he didn't comprehend our culture. He would learn with earnest, his eyes shining. They didn't laugh, but they did smile that day. Lana gave him a run down of everything she could, guiding him, befriending him, forgetting her troubles with him by her side.


	16. Chapter 16

_(The Present Time of this Storyline - Clark is six years old)_

Jonathan and I could not figure out, though we tried our best, what had made Clark sick. And so we decided it best just to go with life as normal.

The next time we saw Lana, we were picking her up the next Monday to go to the bus stop. Clark ran up her porch steps, rung the doorbell and stood on his tippytoes to peek through their window.

Soon the door opened, but it was Nell.

"She'll be out in just a second, don't worry. We just got a late start this morning, we stayed up all night watching chick flicks. It was her idea, now that she's a woman, she told me."

I laughed. Clark teetered back and forth on his heels, ignoring grownup talk, just waiting for his best friend to get out here.

And around the doorway she whipped, jumping out onto the porch.

"Hellllllo." She said in a funny accent. But I didn't notice much beyond that, because Clark had fallen and was rolling down the steps.

"Clark!" both Lana and I screamed, I ran after him. But at the bottom of the steps he seemed fine, just a little shaken up. "What happened sweetheart?"

"Is he alright Martha?"

"I'm...I'm fine."

Lana began to skip down the steps, rushing to his side. But suddenly I saw Clark's eyes open up wide, and immediately he backed away from her. She stopped, confused by what game he was playing now.

Nell, oblivious to the strangeness of the situation made her way back into the home. I continued to watch the two, as Lana would step forward, Clark would step back. As though he didn't want to be near her.

She giggled nervously, her little plastic koalas hanging from her hair, shaking. "What are you doing?"

"Um, nothing."

"Why won't you let me near you?" She asked as she tried hopping closer to him. He just ran back a few more steps.

"No...no reason."

"Clark. Stop it."

But he didn't. I didn't interfere. It seemed as though whatever it was that was making Clark sick, was Lana. Eventually, she gave up chasing him and came back to walk beside me. Clark walked far ahead of us, his head hung low. Lana watched him confused, and hurt. I put my arm around her.

"Boys sure are weird." She told me.

"You have no idea."

The rest of the way, and at the bus stop Clark kept his distance. Lana stood sullenly next to me. This was very wrong. And yet I felt helpless as to what to do. It was all so wrong. If my Clark and Lana weren't next to each other, I'm not sure how to explain it, but everything just felt wrong.

As the bus pulled up, Clark lingered, waiting for Lana to get on first, so he could obviously sit somewhere else. I sighed. Lana looked between us, sighed, and boarded the bus, heading toward the back, their usual seat. Clark got on afterwards and sat in the front.

As the bus drove away, Lana looked out the back and waved without smiling.


	17. Chapter 17

_"Pinkie Promise it."_

_"I pinkie promise it."_

_"That we'll always always be best friends?"_

_"Forever and ever Lana."_

_"I don't want to lose you Clark."_

_"You won't. I'll always be here Lana, we live right next door to each other."_

_"Nell said things change."_

_"Let them. We'll stay the same."_

* * *

I was baking again, yes the good ol'mama Kent passion. But I still can't believe I'm the good ol'mama Kent now. I loved it when the house smelled of apples and cinnamon. If it was a perfume, I'd wear it. As I put one in the oven I wiped my hands clean and moved on to other chores. 

I went into the living room and stopped when I saw Clark standing at the window. Surprisingly, anger took a hold of my heart at that moment. Why should something so unexplainable happen to him? And have such devastating effects? As the days had gone by, he and Lana saw even less and less of each other. And it broke my heart.

Clark stepped back from the window and turned. He stopped when he saw me. He didn't do anything but stand there, a bitter sadness clearly evident upon his face.

"Lana's coming."

I looked over his shoulder through the window and could certainly see a pink sweatered little girl walking up our dusty driveway.

I shared a strange tense moment with Clark. I know all he wanted was to open that door and run to her. His best friend. His first love. But for some unfathomable reason he couldn't. Something to do with his origins. And even he doesn't know the full truth of that matter. He just knows that if it is a sickness or an allergy, he's not allowed to go to the doctor.

And so he doesn't open the door when it rings. He doesn't wave to Lana over my shoulder. He doesn't give her a hug. He just stares back at me and raises his shoulders and hands slightly into the air with a pained look on his young face. What can he do?

He leaves and I walk over to answer the door.

"Hi Lana, what a surprise, how are you?"

"Hi Mrs. Kent, I'm pretty good, is Clark home?"

"He is, but I'm afraid he's feeling rather sick at the moment."

"Really? Well, is it alright if I sit and talk to him? It's important." How in the world can I deny the sweetest little girl I know? My voice comes out strange, like it's been strangled.

"I'm sorry, Lana, but it's not a good time now."

Dejection is clear upon her features.

"Oh, well, maybe tomorrow then."

"Mmhm, goodbye Lana."

I see her linger for a few seconds wondering if I was kidding her and Clark is about to bound around the corner. But a minute later he's not there. She flashes me a faint smile, but I think I can see tears forming in her eyes. Oh, Lana, my dear sweet Lana. I just wish I knew how to fix this terrible nightmare.

She turns around slowly and totters off the steps looking back at me occasionally as she makes her way back toward her house.

She came again the next day. And the next. And the next. For a whole month she didn't give up.

Until the day came when no little girl knocked on our door.

Clark was devastated. She had given up on their friendship, not so unlike he had done. He stayed in his room for long periods of time just looking up at the ceiling.

I spoke to Nell less and less, as our children were no longer friends, it seemed as though we had less and less in common. She never did ask me why Clark stopped playing with Lana. I never brought it up. She told me she has Lana busy in a number of new activities. Especially cheerleading, track, and art. She doesn't mention if Lana is as saddened by this as Clark is. I don't ask.

* * *

A few days later I take Clark up to the loft in the barn. 

"It'll be like treasure hunting, won't that be fun?"

"I guess."

The loft is still piled high with boxes and chests full of old things from the Kent family. I try to keep his mind occupied on other things besides his recent loss. We dig through the old boxes as I clean, store and finally clear the loft area.

"Hey, what's this?"

"Oh, now that's cool, a one of a kind find. That's a telescope."

"Something you use to see stars and other planets?

"Yeah, or things that are far away."

"Mom, do believe in aliens?"

I accidently drop the box I'm holding out of surprise.

"Well, actaully, yes, I do, Clark."

He giggles, "That's silly, Mommy."

I smile, "Maybe."

Over the next few weeks we clear more of the old junk away, Jonathan helps drag up our old couch, and a few other pieces of furniture. I help Clark decorate his new club house. And it actually looks inviting. A fun place to play in for my six year old and his friends.

However, he seems most fascinated by the telescope.

"Did you figure out how to use that? What are you looking at, Clark?"

His cheeks turn red for a second. "Just something...far away."

Somehow I have a feeling I know what it is.


End file.
